Some time ago
I was on drugs
Now I’m on nightmares
The kind that kindly refuse to end
Prone to dying, fed by rape
Watch a pseudo-infested landscape
Crimson streaks riding crevices and cracks
Abovegound voices busily turn backs
Full(er than usual) of visitors unwanted
Dying away, things once flaunted
By this time
I should be likened to the shaman
Cascading across galaxies
Parsecs beyond language
Stars unfold, grains of sand
Trust their secrets in my hand
Aces and eights
Stroked by fingers of raptured souls
Cauldrons of hate
Overflowing into bow(e) ls
And I am left rigor mortis stiff
Sewn mouth hangs in the balance
Now imbibed by flesh decaying
Subtly impeding the games they are playing
Viscera receding around flowers they’re laying
Burgundy woods surround
A velvet carpets the ground
Still like silt, the knowledge I know
Dying ‘neath the seeds they sow
Why I, unlike them, do not grow
Only dissolve into it
My constituents, of the earth
Cold touch of bone
Of flesh so rotten
As welcome as spring morning
Awake without warning
Sick, sicker, sickest
Turn your back, cut to the quickest
And nobody save I has seen
The worm is welcome, as always, he has been
Bury me
Leave me
Forgive me
Forget me
Forget me
Forget me
Peter Timothy McQueeny
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dying-with-a-secret/
