Essence

All that I see of you is a waste,
(Of your hands cupping empty air)
Because you aren’t a pile of warm flesh,
The dirt and the grimacing smile
And to think that the closest we could get to one another
Would be to fuck
I’m not okay with that.
And laceration isn’t the answer,
The useless flesh is still there, just gaping
Separated and it will taunt and bleed,
Because the veins run too deep,
And the surface of my skin is too far away from my bone.
So let’s take a walk.
We’ll go to the river,
In my back pocket there’s a brush made of broken needles and when
We stoop at the edge of the water
I’ll plunge you under,
Strip off the pointless rags we call clothing
And I’ll scrub you
Until the water doesn’t run red anymore,
And your screams are mere protests of the filth stripped white.
I will carry you to the mountain then,
And when we’ve reached the highest point
On the largest rock straining to touch the sun,
I’ll crack your bones like rotten wood to find it.
I’ll grasp you. Hold you in my hand and the brilliant blue will feel
Soft and pliant like a new body 
While the black smoldering on the edges cools my skin into the hardness of a shell.
Yellow sparks will sting my arm and let the red free
And that’s when I’ll realize that eyes are illusions.
This is the only moment in my pathetic life so I’ll plunge you
Into my chest and let you erode away everything that doesn’t need to be,
And when I come out
The ashes on the white stone won’t mean a thing.