Dancing in a Liquid Veil - Funeral

Tis Blood thou seeketh?

Thou canst hurt me if thou want it

Burn and break me

Run your nails clean through me

For not even the pity of vultures am i worthy

White skin stings the eyes

But the soft, red, brush loves soothing ache

With cold, steel, serrated lips

I kiss myself… So hard

In long arching motions

And the picture painted is one of death

Skin-like canvas

Yearns and.

beckons

Screaming for repentance

The feeling when flesh parts

Gaping wounds speaking its beauty in riddles

A mute crescendo of spewing blood

Unveiling the- true self

Streaming from the heart

Drenched in surreal pain

And dancing in a liquid veil

A constant spray of fading life

Led by angels dressed as demons

Sweet are their arms to die in

But they carry thorns

Thorns that rapture and release

Behold my art

The flesh takes form

With killing detail

And suicidal precision