Weird Poetry

I had to drain all of the bad viscous blood

Sticking stagnantly to the insides of my veins,

And to other inside parts.

I had to let the tear-tainted blood

Knowing full well that I could lose far too much in the process,

And it could kill me (maybe not my body but at least an irretrievable shard of soul).

I had to wash my face and body

In charcoal, tulip petals and burning embers

To pull out all of the death

I allowed you to plant in the abundantly lush garden

Of me.

But I know once I harvest and dispose of the deathkisses

That bite into my bloodful beating little heart,

And seal up the wound for good,

I will be pure again and free of voidful destroyer


In all of your forms of voice and other flesh.

I don’t know how you managed

To infiltrate and pollute me the way you have,

I don’t know how you got stuck

Inside me

In the fucking first place,

But I know now

That after this next burning and shedding of skin and emptied bones

And liberated veins

That not a single cell of you remains

In the rushing crimson current

In my quaking quivering birth-damp body.




*** Good golly, you sure are cleaning house aren’t ya? A regular Betty Crocker you are, Tootsie Roll! ***

*** I bleed because I want LIFE not DEATH. The bleeding reminds me of my beating honeylicked heart and the lovefever burning me up from my insides. ***

2 thoughts on “Bloodletting

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