i ask how you're feeling
and care enough to listen
for your reply
i chase the chills
from your bedcovers
and warm you
with the heat
from my heart...
but perhaps
i am nothing
more a sick,
twisted fantasy
conceived in the core
of your head--
a teenage,
barely-legal Lolita,
pink pussy parted,
waiting for you--
and this night
will end
with you
getting what you want
from me
and me
alone
again
the crime draws closer,
and the suspect list
is narrowed down
to two
but where
and how
my heart will be slain
remains a mystery
you,
in the bedroom,
with a butcher's knife?
me,
stabbed through the scalp,
sliced in a circle,
my pumpkin seed thoughts
ripped out
with your bare hands
and strewn about
the rug
i see no light
through carved-block eyes,
smell no scent
through a triangle nose,
and speak no words
through a new mouth lined
with broken teeth
will you place your candle
inside my hollow self
so all that shines through
is stained
with your
tainted
touch?
will you lace your honey-tongue
with arsenic
so that a single
kiss could kill
as i linger
on your lips,
blissfully bringing
the poison to my soul?
i have no concrete answers--
only cardboard clues
they dissolve into the darkness
like dismissed dream fragments,
fading when eyelids
flutter open
and the mind's steel trapdoor
swings shut
