Spiked Top

Head spinning like a spiked top
Spilling colors and shadows into my aura
I am burning bitterness and fury
Frustration is branding my skin
Bitching up my cosmetically untended thighs

Where do I go from here?
Shearing on my inner walls
Peeling orange burnished
Seething sound
Plummeting sea torn butterflies
In your freckled pressing light
Driving away through anguished city lights
Heavy to Be
Dark callow hand
Curious slithering pale skin
It’s a tomb in here
My entombed voice quivers in my throat
Sandy calves arching rocked interior
Brandished devouring sunset
Killing me down
Little ingrate, do what you’re told
Sprouting silver moons
A solemn farce of memory seized
My dimly illuminated skull
Is this what you call will?
Do my sad eyes repel?
A memento mori slowly burns beside me
Carving crash
Unzip my veil of skin and memory
Take out the stiff cold, faith encrusted in ice
It’s here, a disgusting titillating rush
Over nails and thickets
Pounding into fun house mirrors
Cotton candy like rat poison
Stuff it to absorb the blood
A screaming child down the road
A spiked nightmare birthing my memory