Poetry / luna(sic)

On the horizon looms my keeper
Cold and vicious, pale and colored cruel
Slowly filling my cruel cup with it’s bloody drops
Waning patience as the it waxes overhead, I feel the change boil over
Quickly turning delicate presence with overhead callousness
I fall to my knees, fall to my vices, fall on my sword
Sworn and swollen and steadily declining, this unforgiving mistress has me tied to the table
Twisting around my hopes into anxiety, dreams into electrostatic
I swing, I miss, I swing, I connect
Connect with the demons, I feel my sinew go corrupt
Slashing at slightly raised flesh grants me only a few slight moments of refrain
Before I slash, I dig, I slash, I claw
Why is my left always trying to destroy my right?
It never seems to connect the lines and the threats
Into a single point of release and redemption
Save for that quickly fading ominous glow that comes from that sick child in the sky
The one that laughs and burns, not with light but with persuasion
Pulling on the milk at the top of me, that holds me closer then mother’s did, to self combustion
Self annihilation, self mutilation, self appreciation seldom stares me in the face
Instead with a bruised ego and shattered common ties, I feed off vacant stares
Oh, how I long to return to being the beast inside the boy, where no one can see it
But how can I hide who I really am with that sadistic light-bulb overhead
Simply, I can’t
Simply, I won’t
Simply, I can’t
Simply, I won’t
The left tries to destroy the right for a reason
The right might just survive to spite the left alone
Spite can go a long way
Spite can save
When the lazy sun takes to the sky and chases the pale ghost of night away
My right is there shaking, shivering and numb
Abused, humiliated and feigning injury
The sun always pities my right
Raped and murdered to protect the other half
Either way though
Every month, every cycle, every episode, every moon inspired mania
No matter if my left is supreme
No matter if my right sits, hidden
The center continues to be chewed
The center continues to be ignored
The center continues to disintegrate
Til one day I shake off my limbs
In sheer desperation, to merely survive