black liquorice

Blending my time,
it won't be long until the first bruises appear
and cross out my skin as the wanderers.
there's no relief but
the one in the pavement
petrol leaves rainbow puddles
at the car park.
Daylight and all I see are
people swallowing death juice on the corridors
and their blood, all stained, makes the floor get sticky
and it floods my heart as it is with them
caressing their stabs with my sharpened tongue.
once their lips were for the motherly breasts
now they shape the words that cut as blades
but still, they scream like the newborn
and the nurses are all gone so I
tell them the truth and the truth rots my teeth
and my hands get all rusty, they tell me
sit down their
black liquorice makes me dizzy,
and my nerves, blue violet and swollen, embrace my body
and I'm back to myself: keep up blending my time as it were water colours
darker sorrows
to come,
my quartered lips still singing the songs of the damned
the sores of my mouth itchy with the citrics
that grow in the lands of the arcadia
there is a pair of torn tights in the middle of the street if you
follow the giggling you will find the owner
but I no longer
move and my
liquory eyes are dropping
some alcohol tears on the veils
of another night, another time.

I find myself alone.
The sound of a cracking backbone is the last thing I hear.


© Text: written by VICTORIA BARDOT, all rights reserved.
©Image: unknown source