To Pop Evil’s “Torn to Pieces”

Under a sky of iron, a tide of blood
Laps at my feet, coagulating with tears
My past, the long-dead and nearly
Their faces play before me.

Chains of salt and blood
Wrapped around me binding me
To this beach to the sound of my
Screams and howling weeping
And ever-living misery.
I am enslaved to my own hell.

My twin is all but dead.
My father a branded memory.
I am haunted by memory
By an unceasing pain.
The bones, tears and blood
They lay under the sand
How many do I owe blood to?

I live a suffering that is nocturnal.
It rears its head at night.
It hunts me.
I drink. I inject liquid numb.
I die.
Every day I die.

My pain is my chain.
My friend. My God.
I cry and bleed.
The ever-perpetual wound.

It weeps blood and oil
And tears of the betrayed.

I live for the toxic burn,
The alcoholic oblivion.
My blood a flaming river
Of blackened death.

I know nothing of death.
I know .

My heart quakes,
Every time she touches me.
Every time, I feel the wrench.
Do not lie to me.

Self-infliction is my own.
You shant take the blade to me
Without leaving a grave.
The ultimate journey.

I want to live.
But not like this.
Not living with a hole
Torn into my soul
No one to envelop myself
Into the pink and red
The sear of perpetuity.
01/03/15