My Dead Self

Awake, Asleep

I’m not sure any more

darkness has become my erotic creator

she gives me morbid thoughts

insomnia I.V. drips

they seep into my ears

words of torment

cold, it’s so cold in here.

My dead self awakens

I fear her

her black eyes

sunken and hollow

she oozes terror

she’ll rip the flesh from your bones

only to wear it as a coat.

She peels back your eyelids

screams look at me!

see

do you see

skulls, piled high

the tower forms into a piece of art

atop, my own fleshed head

am I dead

is this insomnia dread.

How long have I been in this furic state

I woke up, mud covered feet

bloodied hands

at the garden’s gate

my skin was not my own 

but a flesh coat.

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