Hungry Heart

Beauty! I French-kissed it on my red-rosed lips,

Naked women crawled on all fours

To devour it with their salivated mouths,

While some ballet gracefully on their bleeding toenails

To lick my ruby tongue and poke my sapphire eyes,

Men even vomit religious raindrops of tears

As they worshiped my sinful aestheticism,

While I posed highly in all Hell's glory

With a shameless grin on my painted flower,

Biting and clawing the innocence

Of those fools' beliefs with my sharp thorns.

Youth! I made torturous love with my

Greek body on the Parisian canvas,

Staining the yellow wallpapers and

Turkish carpets with our holy liquid of fume,

For there I stood on God's head

Upon the sorrow garden of roses and kings,

And slain the grandfather clock of Youth

With my golden dagger that holds guilty history,

I watched Time plucking its final operatic harp

To my immortal soul as I ripped the virginity of men.

What a curse! The Devil has sneaked in his winged boy

To cheat on my blessings of society's prying eyes,

Shoot rage on my timeless beauty of decorative women's hunger,

Stab blindness on my ageless youth of masked men's inner thirst,

Yes, I sold my face to Michael for eternal soul,

The damnation of regret and pleasured desire as I

Kiss His cold-lithe hands and skeletal feet.

Ah, foolish girl! I would rape your mindless

Stupidity and spiritual innocence,

Had you not done that yourself as you

Swallowed the pills of acidic sugar,

Does it taste nice like my licorice lips?

What joy it is in learning upon your timeless death!

Do not cry to me, you pathetic little Shakespearean,

As I had only murdered your useless beauty,

While you carved your own hungry heart out,

And feed it for the street rats in your home of sewers.

Time present lingers on a thread as the roses withered,

The Sun aged around lazy dancing flames,

Clouds puffing thin smokes of white doves,

Dragonflies tire listlessly on poison ivies,

Yet I remain God-like in the wild eyes of merciless

Men as they slowly fade from the face of earth,

Drooping pink-fleshes and wrinkled masquerades led me to

Ponder on Nature's power of cruel mortality,

Fifty winters has snowed and I am supposed to be

Lounging six feet under with the worms,

The curse! The curse!

What have I done? I have sinned!

I have ripped my one love's chastity to midnight's ashes and

Beheaded my good friend's honesty for maggot's food,

My soul has painted horrible fairy tales of vulgar

Crimes like the wings of broken butterflies,

It must be burned at once!

It must be punished as I howled musically

On my disgusting beauty of men's jealousy,

Beauty! A sinful gift from God as they

Blinded the heart of aesthetic society,

Wrecked of one man's soul for the importance of

Youth! I am forever cursed.

So long now, as I pirouette my way through the decadence

Path against Beauty and Youth to win my mortality in death.

- a.i.a.