Neon Lights

It’s one of those nights. Those lonely nights in splendor a bored blonde stands upon a rooftop terrace. The wind blowing as it does from 15 stories high through those pretty locks the music booming right behind. Our girl dressed to the nines staring down at the Capitol lights the blood splatter in her eyes.
“Memories…” she sighs through red lips parted just so. As he steps out she pulls the end of her cigarette holder to those lips, before he speaks “got a light?” voice that sweet kind of ready.
He makes a noise and begins bumbling through his pockets until he nabs his torch. She smiles the wind tossing her hair every so tenderly as flame meets home. She breathes in.
“So baby what you doing all the way out here?” his breath stinks of schnapps. Wrapping a well toned arm around her satin wrapped waist “you should be where the action is” he hoots pulling her closer their chests colliding. At least he’s built well she smirks taking a long drag those full red lips delighted at the odds.
Some nights a girl just needs some company. He’s smelling her hair as her attention moves toward the glass doors. Neon lights in darkness shadow all the bodies the boom of the music masking the screams in her head, blood splatter still painting her eyes. “Let’s go sweet thing you can finish that inside” he was right she only came out for the view. Now it was time for a little do-si-do.
He leads her through the glass doors the bass almost nauseating “I found the golden ticket!” the stud shouts the crowd responds though nothing’s heard.
She takes a drag watching the slow exhale of the smoke-an excuse to take in the room. She follows the show pony rather guided by his grip, reaching out taking a glass of wine- she sips that red. A drop falling from lip to breast the cool sensation a flash of vindicated regret. Our blondes remembering a face she can never forget. Blood splatter and that bass is sounding thick. He twirls her suddenly out of underneath his weight in her heels she spins the wine spilling over her silver draped body her back hitting the DJ booth. The pain in her spine the trigger.
Thud then swipe the neon colored lights dancing off steel as the beat gets hot.
A flip of our miss and she’s on top the studs shoulders. Face first. He’s enamoured by her intimate wear completely missing the fact this little blonde’s cut clear through the nape of his neck. His blood soaks her thighs as she rides the stiff backwards through the crowd. The  decapitated hottie takes her to the center of the room before the timber begins to fall. To the sound of the bass she goes flying cartwheeling off shoulders before dropping heels into the eyes of another lovely guy. Knife in hand our lonely lady shakes it off the blood splatter illuminated in the dark by neon lights. A girl screams as the blonde reaches number four she sees the rolling head being kicked about the scene. The blondes knife takes another dog while the screaming girl tries to tell someone anyone what’s she seen. Finding the only man whose still breathing, but to her horror takes the words right out of her mouth literally as he shoves his tongue down her throat. She struggles still screaming-as best she can as he paws at her flesh, so after those lips. The music is thumping the tempo a heart attack as he stops her struggle with a hand crack across her face.
Above the quarrelsome pair our blondes legs twirl over the crowd, she watches, the now silent screamers face frozen in fear as the still breathing dog continues to maul. The severed head still being kicked amongst the living.
The beat drops as the observant blonde let’s long legs fall the neon lights flash red, lips sighing “memories…” her heels hit shoulders digging in-delicate fingers release the strap on either side-another pair bites the dust. Nylon covered feet drop to the ground forcing our girl between the passionate duo, her knife comfortable within the dogs chest. She turns it. Red lips next to his breathing in the taste of vodka and soda “you won’t remember me, but I still remember you.” She turns the knife again his hands about her throat weakened by the last of the poison. Oh-how girls do love their poison heels. “All of you.” Pulling her knife out thud another one bites the dust.
The neon lights keep dancing as do the drunk honeys that showed up. The damsel screamer is long gone didn’t even bother informing the gaggle, but luckily left the blonde time to retrieve the heels and saunter out before the red lights interrupt the neon shadows.

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Self identified

What is a warrior-
a strong woman
tell me what it means
to be a champion
tell me what you’ve done
to be number one
have you given blood
or just claimed the sum
of all the work that happens
while you live on
pretending that you know
something that we don’t
not the definition though
the word rewrote.

Weakness

Bleed for me
bleed for me
tell me that you’ll lead me
keep me
love me
color me with cotton candy.
Drink me and teach me
that everything is grey.
I’ll sleep on the floor
just to save the day.
All I really want
is someone just to stay
keep your hand upon me
never will I stray.

(25 August 2017)

Declarations

Blessed by spirits
blessed in love
my soul is freedom
my heart becomes
pure as water
driven snow
my blood on fire
divine inferno
God is keeper
I am kept
my faith is trust
in that which is
blessed is all
that love has given
my portion greater
then my eyes
my life I’ve entrusted
to the Divine.

Thicker

Harden me
harden me
make it hard to sleep
too dark to dream
every little part of me
a song to scream
another testimony
of this life I lead.
Harden me
break my bones and teeth
teach me what I need
to breathe and drink
the poison owed to me.

Rose petals fall

Break me further
this I chose
broken fever
my weakness grows
you show defiant
my mind explodes
if I am quiet
will our love show.
How many silent
sobs will sing
the old reliable
melody
I don’t belong here
not the same
can you really love me
and forget my name?
Whenever in need
call to the wind
apparently this suffering
erases anothers within
this is the sorrow
that which can’t show
do I belong here
or am I alone.

 

Floods and brooks

 I am ice
my blood is water
made of vice
and unclear fotter
eaten by the barrels long
my blood it boils then it’s gone
taken as a gift in rags
dressed a table for the slab
my ribs done
over cooked
this ice it floods
my body a brook.

(18 August 2017)

If ever a friend would have me

And Death would be a sweet escape,

embracing life’s most evil fate,

its brittle bones, its empty heart,

a vacation from a most feeble art.

Oh how I’ve waited for this chance

to dance with the devil as we

seek ash

to look into eyes so seedy and vile,

to touch that which destroys with guile.

How I’ve longed for this embrace

from world a fire from souls encased.

Death would take me, I require

an escape so sweet slumber

so mild.

A life in abyss, a pit to sleep.

And Death would be so kind to me,

an old friend, a lover, a song birds tweet.

Oh Death would end this futile endeavor

my struggle, my tragic, my will forever.

(February me 2012)