FINGERPAINTING MY WAY TO HELLFINGERPAINTING MY WAY TO HELLI am slowly putting off the future.My eyes are opened - slightly.Eyelids flutteringbattering my flesh,trying vainly to pound myself intoa shape that I can love.Lips closed, shutting awayeach truth that may pass throughmy softened brain.I watched the sun set, escapingbehind my dark clouds.I chased my dreams away,running until my breath createda windstorm in my soul.Cheeks flushed with my own sweetblood rushing forth togather it between my long fingers.Scrape it upon my skin -finger painting my way to hell.
ELUSIVE BUTTERFLYELUSIVE BUTTERFLYSilent fingers touch my cheekwhile a collage of faces circle round.A distant Indian train whistle echoesas hands inflict pain.Certain colours flash in sightwhile certain sadistic instruments gleam on glass tables.A shadowy form beckons from a white carand feelings of despair and fear increase.A stillness is disturbed by demanding voices,bodies move and thrust in unwelcome ways.I dream of someone crying,only to awake in a puddle of my own tears.Even with my eyes open the darkness prevails,and ugly sounds vibrate in my mind.Unlike most, my nightmares do not ceasewith the calm light of a new day.
Its now my background.