How to paint a room purple and red before night takes you gone

Tears are a failure of

Despair and embarrassment

Hot vision, that hurts, that burns

of fire, the hurt is vivid swollen

the scratches, bite marks on my arm

Of craving blood and destruction 

To satiate my tears—

come. Take a brush made from

Bones twisted out my knuckles plop

Pour acid over and meat sloughs off

Bones glowing, oh, glowing for

hair at the tip, ripped from scalp down

Neck, AAHHH— take, huff

TAKE pleasure— MY pain

Gorge a knife through my vagina, gasp

up my belly, between breasts 

Grasp, then snap my neck, like a 

Chicken slaughtered–feathers and all

Chin and mouth one over the other

Rolling into the floor 

Now the floor is a color palette.

And the only color here is red.

Only a head and a headless body.

Now the world is quiet. My tears are frozen.

Ever so gently dip my brush of bones 

and hair over the ground,

Watch the fresh wet paint seep

Put it on your tongue — feel the salty burn

Grief, pain and all so that you too can cry

With me. Wet tears, snot and all.

Rise and grip that brush

Step over my naked body as swells purple

Paint hard that lonely room 

Bloody grief purple

Before the wind blows your heavy soul away,

Lift your head to look 

Up the headless room as night takes over 

Red and Purple– you plunge into the dark

(This poem is about self-hate. In moments of disappointment and embarrassment there is an intense urge to harm and destroy yourself.)

Far away, we fall

In the Far African seas

A thousand years 

Of waves have harvested the

The packed stones in the 

mountain way

The sunken stairs still twirl around where 

People used to climb

Now all we do is fall

(About: The change within periods of times)