Split suicide grin for seasons of terror.
The smiles are born of hurt and deaths
stony eyed philosophers and sharks
shrug their impassive shoulders
at the reaper bird.
Months fly with dragon tongues for wings
but days crawl through undergrowth
swollen with paranoia.
There is no mirror big enough
to capture my reflection,
big as Heaven
tarnished like hell.
Serpents around my spine
excite new addictions
within me.
Under this shroud I call skin
bones tingle like epileptic reptiles,
my penis coils around lust.
There are free deaths
awaiting the brave.
Choose a soul in a mirror
there is no ego like self,
a song of self
a gospel sung of rainbows.
Twist into a pose
break the snake,
turn the snake
throw it to the dangers.
Damnation is closed on sin days.
Feel the wound
made from greed,
spirits fade today.
Happy people never remember
sad ones never die.
Jesus,
kiss me like a hurricane.
And mould my heart
into a symbol without curse...
@Steven Francis Poems 2002
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