Smoke in my lungs,

Raging monster coursing in crimson,

I strain to cough and falter,

My heart is giving way,

 

Elastic compensation to cover my body,

Burning tread marks of razors on my face,

Hollow, pleading eyes full of no remorse,

My mind is spitting diatribes of disgrace,

 

Cursing me with toxic cauldrons,

Bubbling, steaming slime,

I taste the lead and cold steel,

The trigger is hooked in my lungs,

Each breath of barbed memories,

Keeping me in this cage,

 

Arbitrary though my torture is,

I dare not snuff the fire out,

my strain to cough,

to bleed from the wrists,

and feel the empty separation of severed limbs,

my future fuel and past ash,

I endure to remind me of life,

 

The pain of nothing,

Blood spilled on the alter,

Starving God, feeding Satan,

I lick at the flame of Lilith,

Wanting to burn like she does,

 

My decrepit chest,

The cremation of my face with razors,

My hands of Nosferatu,

And nonexistent bodice,

 

Her life,

Her blood,

Her breasts,

Her smooth skin.

 

My eyes are those of her soul,

the only bright stars,

peering out of the darkened void,

I am imprisoned by nothing,

 

I'll forever be the woman of shadow,

Unattainable, untouchable,

Escaping the feasible,

Wrecked, ruined, and stained with abuse,

The whisper in acidic rain,

Snarl from the cave,

Hoot of a screech owl,

in the smoke of burning the objectified divine,

I am sacrilege, irony, and death,

 

My salvation,

Is not through pleasing my flesh,

But burning myself alive