poetry

Queen of Hearts. {poetry}

{via Tumblr}

{Photo via Tumblr}

Love love. Fear hate. Hate fear.

Love love. Fear hate. Hate fear.

Whispered breaths.

Drumbeats heart

Trapped; captured.

The itch as the blade

cuts your throat.

The burn as metal

meets warm blood.

The thought that kills;

The gun that heals.

The guilt in your mind

It’s all in your head

 Fear in your heart;

That which penetrates your soul.

A numbing touch.

Such a cold embrace,

leaving you as a wilted flower.

Death may come to a heart

that ceases to beat,

to veins who carry

not blood, but air.

Stale air, thick with

the sweat of fear.

Vast hate, consuming a soul.

Hate love.

Hate fear.

Hate yourself.

Hate the world,

and give your everything to change.

Hate the life

you were made to live, so instead

choose to die.

Die with power, of passion;

Of thought.

Die of no regret.

That is a thing of the mind

and not the heart.

Do as you will,

whatever that will may be.

F*ck as you want.

Live as you want.

Die as you want.

Do it with a smile

and a cheap turn of phrase.

Laugh, and don’t look back.

Fires burn, as passions lust.

Feed the fire.

Throw away thought.

Move only to the beat of

one drum.

Dance madly,

caress the heart’s will.

Embrace only

one soul.

Love thyself,

make the body magic.

Spirited fingers will touch

Shivers?

Trembling!

Cut the strings!

Free yourself, puppet!

Or else, make me your God.

Free will is lost, as thought;

A pattern come to pass.

Dense mind.

Empty lust.

Anger through confusion.

You don’t understand?

I am not your God;

This power does not exist!

Fear me,

as you fear yourself.

Cut my throat.

Slash my wrists

and tumble thought;

Please join me on the floor.

Kiss blushed lips

and drink from the cheek.

Lay me down,

tell me your soul:

Mindgasm,

sex of the ages

Pleasure for your penny,

pennies for your thoughts.

You’re all backwards love,

inside out as you speak:

You wear your heart on your sleeve

and your c*ck in your pocket

What human sir are you?

Endangered love, extinct.

You do not exist as this;

An actor in life, true in the play.

Speak what words you have, or else

cut out your tongue.

Bleed, and bleed into me

Swallow me,

take me in you.

Wait!

We are reversed again!

Are you not

the one who seeks control?

Put your c*ck away:

a toy, for but a fool.

Spiral in your own sexuality

Does that hand treat you alright?

Wake up!

Time to live!

Flush the system through.

Conditioned mentality

Unstable created thought

You are broken:

None but a cracked doll

lay on the glass body.

Too much pressure.

Shatter!

Nothing is complete any longer.

Pieces beyond repair,

shards too fine to see,

they’ve cut right through me.

My hands, no longer mine

The art of blood;

Fingerprints of my veins,

their proof.

Boil blood and bubble,

gurgle in your

choking crimson tide.

Your red death

I can’t seem to find a pulse.

It must mean she’s alive.

That heart she has

there is only black ice.

Your hands are too warm —

Careful not to thaw

Or she may feel again.

She still breathes.

She breathes incoherent thought,

stripped of her heart.

Let’s sew that back up.

Underwear inside out

laugh my bloody love

One; rape victim one.

One drum beats for you.

Cry mascara streaked tears.

They taste so salty sweet.

Contradict yourself and moan.

He says he’s pleasuring your soul,

scream one more time,

speak his name,

then cut into his back —

nails scratching at flesh

like a scared cat.

One drum; you still feel it?

Still so f*cking cold.

Shivers?

Trembling!

Cut into yourself,

right through your stomach.

Chew through your own brain,

you only needed food for thought.

Bite the c*ck that penetrates you.

Squeeze, and don’t let go;

you are ready to explode.

Hands against the wall.

He watches you.

His eyes a hungry glare.

He is waiting.

As hard slips to soft,

erection going limp,

he exhales and let’s go,

an explosion internal.

He is finished, his crime is done.

The set, the time was made.

He gave the gift you did not want

pleasure you desired not.

Pleasure for your penny;

pennies for your thoughts

he leaves you as a wilted flower.

Loveless eyes, bloody hands,

lips too boozed to speak,

kiss the knife

that tears your heart.

Kiss the hand that kills.

With that he leaves,

your end has come.

Love but only a memory.

A thought, of the heart;

It’s one last breath

one drum no longer beats.

Fear that killed you,

fear of yourself.

Fear you did not let go.

Hate of your love,

hate of yourself.

He knew this to be true.

Queen of hearts,

you hold not a word.

You hold not a feeling for me.

Slip love, slip with the blade

Cut a healing wound;

Bleed and bleed into me.

Swallow my soul,

take me in whole

Heal your broken bones

and dress yourself—

But please, take back your heart!

I do not want this wretched thing!

So dark, so cold;

It’s dying.

I do not want

your thoughts that kill.

Please leave me

to my death in peace.

Rest sweet soul,

cut into you no more.

Please savor that memory of love,

that which the queen has abruptly taken.

She has spoken, your heart will heal.

Your sex is not the fair.

Wake up!

It’s time to live my love!

Lungs were meant to breathe!

One drum beats.

The heart is thawed.

Oh, she feels again!

The life not numb.

Passion burns.

All thought which

had laid to rest

Fear this life

Fear this love

Fear this pain

you live within.

Love this heart;

your one true speaker.

Through which you do not live.

Love this soul, this body of faces;

This being of lies and of truth.

Hate the thought of loss, of life.

Still your heart beats on.

Love love. Fear Hate. Hate Fear.

Love love. Fear Hate. Hate Fear.

The queen of hearts has spoken.

You are ready to move on.

Heal yourself, you love them.

Entrust yourself to their heart.

The heart; your home.

Their eyes; your dreamscape.

Their lips; a sanctuary space

found unto you.

This was all but a dream dear;

your life is not at end

Fear not the life;

you were made to live.

 Live it to the full.

 Fear not their heart,

nor sweet embrace

 Embrace and love them still.

*****

JesseJames24 year old Jesse James is a storyteller & creatrix of many things — an equal blend of mystical, myth & science. Owner of Artemisian Artes and member/founder of The Creating Conscious Arts Collective, who use their voice to promote holistic wellness & inclusive activism/advocacy for the many issues they care about: poverty, disability, full-spectrum equity, anti-oppression movements, trans issues, environmentalism, as well as the violence/politics of Birth (to name a few). A lover of nature and of people; of adventure, and of raw reality — passionate about life and love itself. They adore working with herbs in making natural remedies, and concocting delicious kitchen alchemy is a second nature after breath. They worship the earth, thrive on art, and on forming meaningful connections with others. Their mission is to make that around them more beautiful, or at the very least, to help others see things that already were, in that way. Find them on Facebook here.

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