Nervous Catastrophe

Good eye sniper;
penetrate,
the rest of my life with venom of a viper.
Lost myself in a mirage of bullet shards,
a seductive coma ravens desecrate.
Send Hera my deepest regards,
even a harem of orchids won't sedate this hate.

Hemorrhage, of my scars,
like a supernova amongst the stars.
Waterfalls of blood from all over;
every single wound has got a story to tell.
But everybody hears about them,
from the Queen of England to the Hounds of Hell.

Feeling butterflies in my gut,
thought eating their wings would make me fly.
Break the romance with a nervous cut,
flush the shivers on quivering sighs.

Christening stars,
I remember the way,
riding sunsets into the luscious red lights of Mars,
phoenix mourning, the fires my only memoirs.
Orphanage, my grave, all pretty with bouquets,
don't know why I try; like a flower I'll just decay anyways.

Bony fingers close around me,
entombed in thrashing of a grey and ageless sea;
my veins erupt with catastrophe.
Find a canary to bring the message home,
because I know we're both sad and alone,
my coffin just doesn't have a telephone.

Hush, darling,
tighten your lips, don't drink the dead,
remember the sins that keep you fed.
Twisting in the agony of what had died,
you've stained reflection on the skies,
and all the tears that we have cried,
will be sucked back into our eyes.