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Rated: E · Poetry · Emotional · #2123479
An address to epilepsy.
You hunger
for a dance
spark the electric storm
sweep my conscious
into darkness,
your claws
seize my synapses
yank the strings, and
every muscle taut, I
drop
jerk
spasm
Again! you cry
for
one dance around the floor
to my woeful whimpers
is not enough for you

Your steps disorient me
you seal my lips
with hell's kiss
cloud my thoughts
daze my mind
swirl your talons
inside my gut
pull everything out
until
I am broken,
empty
lost in this darkness

You try to wring
the fire from my soul.

But here
before your hell-born eyes
I stand
arms wide
lips befouled
yet
unbroken
unfettered -
unleashed!

you reach for me,
just one more turn
upon your flame-licked floor

hear me
I am not
yours to touch
I am not
your marionette
and you
do not deserve
another dance
with
me.
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