Angel reboot

I feel the bugs crawl inside me.

I’m as shallow as your iris bulbs,

as quick as the last two puffs

before you throw the blunt away,

before it dies

and you decay.

A corpse so vacant, so full of meaning.

I’ve never seen a touch so redeeming.

Open your mouth.

Take it all in.

Look up at your savior

and whisper: please.

Beat me up

until I bruise.

Open me up

and sew me closed,

only to tear the stitches

and make me bleed out.

Again.

I’d still be on my knees for you.

I’d still crawl and beg for you.

I’d still be a good girl for you.

I’ll do anything

for

you.

Light is a veil of silk I long for.

The wind comes first,

passes through me

as if I were nothing.

A trembling psychosis,

a throat so sore

you’d rather cut.

Something in my eyes breaks open.

I stare

up

too long.

Never has a mind been so gory,

gorgeous, a word I struggle for.

The air peels my skin.

The ocean depth of a cold touch,

with a razor blade.

Broken, spoken, then disposed of,

violently, patiently,

like devotion does.

My knees are bruised

from staying.

My hands red

from holding nothing.

I bleed silences

woven for tears and pores.

Wires tying my hands and knees,

incapable and petite.

I sit and beg and cry and…

tilt my head higher,

waiting to be told.

Chosen.

Not a sigh, not a word.

That’s the task.

I remain.

Wires are ribbons made in heaven,

and your hands are the tenderness I crave,

landing on my skin,

tracing my sins.

I do not move.

I do not ask.

I’ll do anything

for

you.