‘no-rest-for-the-wicked’

she transcends the sky with her mocking laughter, painting clouds with her poisonous envy/ it seeps through her eyes like jaded flowers burst through her burning skin (so thin as in transparent)/ and it’s no-rest-for-the-wicked “so i guess that just makes you human”/ more alive than anyone will ever know/ a seething mind like the deadliest of discords and entropic stars, she sits so still as to do away with breathing (who needs it anyway?)/ her face set so perfectly to ‘serenity’/ but all the same she longs for angels (her eyes see straight through me to better things behind)/ they pierce my heart with (their) sickly serpentine beauty like winter fields going on forever, forever ‘til they/(she) self-destruct(s)/ taking pieces of my heart in an explosion of fragmentary sky………i want to show her (the) brilliant sunsets dawning through my dizzy mind – but all she sees(touches) is grotesque.