the world looks red / the world looks black
i.
i am in the city, and
strange things move about:
throbbing excitement,
the need to join the burning.
birthing perversions,
i lie naked on the studio floor,
clenching tight,
preparing to burst forth.
they will come for me;
their hearts are black and shriveled;
i do not fear them;
i prepare a new piece.
ii.
something is happening.
tooth-shattering rage and
the smell of smoke,
these things drug the mind,
prying open the ribcage.
covered in bite marks,
whimpering like a mutt,
i curl into a ball.
they will tear my sinful form apart;
they have chains and whips;
i am not ready to die;
my hand hesitates.
page revision: 4, last edited: 26 Aug 2026 13:44