[Désastre Corporel]

sexonadeathbed:

Spewing my bile onto paper

ink punching parchment in rage

iamnothingiamnoone

french cigarettes and 

blonde wood floors

creaking under cold toes

iamvitaliamworthless

fingers bleeding at the edges

languages i do not speak

become my new diversion

another way to leave

allofthisallofyou

behind.

a steaming cup of

catholicon

will bring me peace

if only for a ghost.

sexonadeathbed:

how many times

have i said this? spilled

my mind to you, but kept

these

dirtylittlesecrets

to myself? how often

have i omitted this, this

most precious gem of thought?

my breath chokes

at the mention,

heart breaks at the inkling,

pulse stills

at the implications.

do you tire of me yet?

sexonadeathbed:

You get into my mind.

Make yourself a nice

little

home

there.

You’re in my blood.

You’ve been there a long time.

Incubating.

Making my blood

boil.

The best sort

of disease.

You didn’t have

to do anything,and

that’s the beauty of it.

I let it happen;

from the first moment

we spoke, I let you

contaminate me, thread

your words into

my DNA. Forever entwined,

‘til death do we

part.