The Dark Adorers


Photographs of demons, or just a girl growing into a woman. Stood outside the local supermarket as Peter Pan swoops down to take me away, my hands grow tight and throat even tighter. The traffic crashes, and my tongue swells to the size of greedy snake. Bay of Pigs. Breasts as oracles as symptoms of my nervous disposition. Feed me lullabies to ease my sickness. Take me places where I can lose myself without restraint. Painting images of images divided and refined, my lack of guts is covered with scars untold. Let me smoke a cigar whilst blowing shapes across your pregnant belly. Take the capsule, and swallow my forgiveness. Sold like crocodile tears, and flaunted to the guy with the biggest muscles whose next in line. Trilogy interiors, shone across the face of broken planets, as broken as my faith. Mexican beheadings like twinkling lights on a Christmas tree. I’m sick of feeling so low, but low is the the only way to go. Songs for forgiveness as those eyes gaze no more. Songs to mend inner despair. We drink to remember, and we drink to forget.

Designed by blind ancestors, we move frightened to death, yet comfortable in being so bland. Brush my teeth, cut my hair. Stalking white lies, they’re coming for me whether I like it or not. It’s a game of spinning plates, and as she undresses at the foot of the bed, my eyes turn white with fear. Lizards and sometimes elephants, animals and insects clicked under by a species that deserves nothing but oblivion. On the cusp of something great, my mind loses focus as despair snaps at my heels. It sinks its teeth in, only this time I wont let it win. All the colours that you could ever dream of, so vibrant and true as you wash away your sins in the bathroom sink. I’m just a sinner too, but I’m trying hard to right my wrongs, and to speak the words that will save me from nothingness. Be graceful in defeat, and keep going no matter how much it hurts. These hands belong to someone so ashamed, yet they try so hard to bring beauty to what can be such an abhorrent way of being. Living in the shadows, yet wanting so much more. And all those moments when my fears swallowed me, now gone with just a simple turn of the head. All those tears uncried, not sad but glorious. My soul on fire, my spine in line with all that awaits me. There’s no reason to try, just be, and only be, for as long as you remain.

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