Layers

I felt
degenerate today.
I broke
myself down,
hair follicle by
skin tissue by
blood vessel.
I'm empty.
She sucked it all
out of me.

I call her
Raven,
because she's my
stereotype goth. Raised
in middle school, she
fell in love with my
lips, she says they
taste like cocaine.
Her delusion
was the only reason she stayed.

I scalped
the first half of my head.
I just wanted
to see how I worked.
I didn't, at first,
believe my heart
was the center.

Soups of maggots
were rotting inside.
They floated, like onions,
serene and
lackadaisical
in my
water-heavy blood.

I took her
fake heart strings
to sew myself
back shut.
They glitter like arsenic,
they smell of deceit
and abandonment.

I took
a shaving razor
and I shaved off
the skin of my arms.
It glistens
ruby silver
in the reflection
of my tongue.

I drool
over her pain.
She smokes her pot
and calls me a fool.
Lays me down
in the midst of
her jetblack hair.
It reminds me
of faux-suicide;
it feels like a
poison heavy spider.

She laps on my neck,
wanting to steal the hate
I've always kept inside.
I try to fight her off,
but her scorpion arms
will forever hold me down.

I attempt a cigarette,
it lights beneath my fingertips.
she holds my waist
to keep me steady.
I feel frail times two
in her just-as-thin grip.

I put it out (on)
my jawline has always
been ballerina flawless.
She makes love to my nape.
He always took it for granted.

I sit on my bed,
she is
forever right behind me.
Dictates where I go
and who I fuck.
I look into this mirror
and see her
smiling at me.

Oh, wait, I
forgot.

We touch
me at the same time.
Somehow,
we're in sync.
I take the pen
closer, closer
to my eye.
She screams and
chews on my ear.

Raven,
I murmur,
Go to bed.

Go to bed.
Leave.
Leave me alone.

She touches
my hot spot.
She disappears
beneath my hair,
going back to her
dungeon.

Raven.
You bitch.
You infection, a
snarl. You riddance,
you tease, just
another damned
malaise. You ghost, you
who I fictionalize.
I carve you into me
so I can be like you.