Keeping the red-coats where they belong.

So alive up on stage

But now here you are

Hidden.

Exposing nails to the skin

The sharp turn

Leading to a crack in my wrist

The red coats run

Spreading in all directions

Only inside the body

Can they be an organized army

The sting of hot chili

Keep it in your mouth!

You fool killing your own cells.

Prolonging the pain in your brain by temporary pain in controlled slits and boxes.

A private stall leading down the drain

Trying to catch a fish with a thin piece of paper.

Breaks by blood by water
Nothing like Yoko Ono-cut piece

Leave my flesh alone.

Your smile enchants everyone.

Lie behind.

Nobody really takes pleasure in their own pain.

Yet the stormy winter persists inside

White powder up your nose

White powder in your wounds.

The black tar refuses excavation

By hiding itself from twitter and instragram as they join hands to tell you to celebrate in boasting forms of self-cannibalization

But you dared to smear the red berries

And triumphantly carved the word SLUT across your chest

An anxious auspicion for moribund to turn orotund

My scars are shining in the light.

Neither Pride nor Shame.

Kiss my history.