A metamorphosis of death and desire.
.
.
.
With bristles of gossamer
Dipped in tar
You painted me in pitch black
And wrapped me up in scars,
Wrapped in the finest of silks
Draped in liquid red
I was everything that you despised,
Yet wanted.
Weaved in barbed wires,
Luminescent ties,
In the darkest of abyss
Our story thrives
We met on the sunniest of afternoons
Between the highest of tides
Caught in the whirlpools of passions
Concerns swept aside.
It was a month of frenzy
Madness distilled
You clawed through my veins,
Broke through my rib cage,
And built your fortress inside my heart.
We spent days wrapped in your sheets
Our skins merging into one
I wanted to burn through your soul,
Dismantle you into a work of art.
You bled into me
Just as I absorbed you
Lust merged with insanity
A feast for the demons
The hungry crows
Soon the novelty faded
Only the madness lingered
The exhumed remains of what once was.
Your touches turned to bruises,
Words into daggers,
You carved into me your twisted desires,
Turned me into your imitation,
I grew into your needs,
A ghastly chrysalis,
My broken wings wrapped around you,
I had completed my metamorphosis.
My becoming scared you,
Terrified you perhaps?
You ran.
I was lost,
A compass without direction,
I chased you,
We fought.
Memories escape me,
The moments blurred with time
All I recall were screams,
They were perhaps mine?
I remember the cobbled alley,
The stench of decay,
My limbs strewn in pieces,
I remembered you,
I remembered us,
As I knitted back together.
I was a patchwork of scars and limbs
As I limped back to you,
A sign of your love and care.
Pieces of me were falling apart
As I knocked on your door,
You screamed in despair.
We fell into a spiral of anger, need, and hate,
Clawed at each other,
Our bodies a mass of flesh and blood,
Hungry I consumed you,
We were one,
You and I,
I relished the taste as I lay in you,
Your limbs a patchwork around mine.
I stared at the red splattered ceiling,
Your blood mixed with mine,
I faded eagerly,
As your flesh corroded into me,
Impatient to see our metamorphosis with time.
…
I love horror, I love poetry. I wanted to stitch them together to see the final results. Junji Ito, this one’s all on you.
