The Malice Of Her Heart's Content~

~hmmm~

Sometimes we pick our own killers

there is something beautiful and sublime

in being able to define your own death;

Sylvia said

"dying is an art, I do it very well"

but she didn't know the half of it

so she came back

in a bottle of dreams

a genie for a man's madness

a balm of oxidized distress

for the thorn, the daughter

in his side. . . .

by her grave he knelt

a rose detached

spread between the pages of Belle Jar

he took it home

dried it

ground it

mixed it in a mortar with cream

his fingers dipped

spread the soul

across these lips

and really

what's an infant to do

confronted with such bittersweetness

 

I died inside the womb. . . .

I died against the metal edge of the swing

that had no boundaries

and tossed me to the sky

in a wicked game

of catch the bloody girl . . . .

I died in a bed of violets

in a rain of butterflies

while Pan wept amidst brambles

and cleaned the mud out of my hair when all was bled and done . . . .

I died of fevers

fluids tracing warm liquids the length of spine . . . .

I died on a surgeon's table

his scalpel in my soul . . . .

dying is an art

I do it better than any other

but picking your killer

is a masterpiece

so come and get me

I'll meet you on shore

where the sand is soft

and secrets stay buried

and lovers gaze across the waves to the lights of Atlantic City;

the malice of my heart's content

couldn't be made any clearer

I am drawing you a map

in the direction of my tilted smile

 

Sometimes we pick our own killers

but at the pinpoint of wounds

with no take backs

our clever monster unsheaths

and turns the predator

into prey

 

He picked me as his killer

what a load of f***ery

 

 

copyright:2011vssmd/amusemusepress

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

 

 

 

Reviews

[OT]

it's just stunning - your ability to craft images and stories - indeed Plath may have been good at dying - but you're good at painting it - sculpting it - brilliant poetry!! and to produce fantastic poetry time after time is just a testament to your skills!! bravo!! I love - "I died in a bed of violets
in a rain of butterflies
while Pan wept amidst brambles
and cleaned the mud out of my hair when all was bled and done . . . ." - nice!!!!

[Lilly Negoi]

Plath would be proud :) - the rain of butterflies would be a wonderful version of death!

[LilyT]

Every day you seem to bury yourself deeper into my heart and psyche with something new under the sun that has never been seen before. But be careful with such an invitation, my beautiful friend. There are sharks and then there are SHARKS.

These lines . . . .

dying is an art

I do it better than any other

but picking your killer

is a masterpiece


I am honestly stunned like a rabbit in headlights waiting for the killer ending.

[Robin]

there are stories ~ and then there is your story ~ tragic and beautiful ~ illuminated within every soul-binding symbol from your pen ~

[Chris Smith Welshpoetcs]

Well written.

[Quinn Blackburn]

Selene, you consistently take my breath away. Malice in Underland with her demure lashes denying free access to her soul, and subtle flecks of scarlet life spattered across her lily white apron. Priceless poetic crafting once more... I'd pick out a favorite line or two, but it would end up being the whole poem! xo

[Jūdan FyreHeart]

I love the ending =D
This is conflicted while being so accepting, it is as it is. The time has come and so be it. Beautifully done as always.