Category Archives: prosem


i know i shouldn’t like him
but that smile
he just has to flash that smile
my insides melt
i become his plaything
and i know he likes me like that
all gooey and mold-able

i should grow a spine
be angry
but instead i watch it
urge the smile to reappear
like a flower that waits for the sun

i know how dangerous his life is
and how much danger i’m in
hanging around him
but how could i walk away
from those dimples
and sparkling eyes?

Present for the Vampire that has Everything

image by davnull on Flickr

she had completed countless
elixirs of love and fame
buckets of alchemic
‘hay into gold’
and hundreds of invisibility,
flight, and even a few cures

her craft was highly guarded
she never advertised
and vetted every customer
through divine spells
and truth systems
redundant to hell and back

she finished the final touches
on the poison
the only one she had ever
accepted a commission for
it was so specific and the intent
of the purchaser
felt true somehow

every harmful creation
by design, could not harm her
she had contracts and lawyers
on retainer, just incase
but the potion itself
she knew
was her masterpiece
it seethed of death
darkness no light could reach
and pain, exquisite pain

she called it
‘Little Death”
because on top of all the other symptoms,
the imbiber would orgasm
to death

beginning to blur

image by jeangoff on Flickr

every night her dream was the same
blood red reflection
uncharacteristic pose
barren landscape with winter trees
burnt sky that hung in the back of her throat
and the Gothic frame that she somehow knew
was cold enough to freeze skin

she watched herself be watched
someone with lust and power on their mind
wanted her to see, to feel the watched shiver
they showed her doing horrible things
to strangers every night, and afterwards always
this image frozen until she woke
like a snapshot of things to come

the voices during the day
had grown louder
and everywhere she looked
eyes, faces watched her
whispered her destiny

she doesn’t want to sleep anymore
but she doesn’t want to hallucinate
and the distinctions are beginning to blur

family secret

source unknown from Flickr

i never willingly showed anyone
my fashion was dictated by it
no one is supposed to have
an eye on their arm

i tried to lovingly label it
my third eye
but who was i kidding?
it’s an eye socket
along with tear ducks and lashes
no eye ball
no sight
although it does itch
in the morning sometimes

my family pretends it doesn’t exist
my boyfriends have never seen it
my doctor wouldn’t believe her eyes
but i live with it

the one person outside the family
who knows about it
is our preacher
and he calls me spawn
includes the word spawn in his sermons
and spends extra time blessing me
about once a month he asks
if my curse has ended yet
i just shake my head

no one knows
late at night
i can feel an eyeball there
wiggling around
and i have to physically hold
the lid shut to avoid seeing
the glowing red pupil
staring at me

it came to be know as the Death Barn

Image by +Pat Kight. on Google+

i knew i had to go in
but my legs wouldn’t move
my stomach fought my control
the smell threaten to turn my brains to mush

death hung around the barn
in a cloud of fumes
no one could mistake
the whole team waited for my move
and i had to master myself
but still my legs rebelled

“Hey boss, you want I should go in first?”
Lui called fromt he back of the crowd
i held my hand up for silence
and took a step further into the fog
of burnt flesh
rotten organs
and ritual magic
all of which fought in my brain
for supreme evilest smell

“Wait a minute, didn’t we create spell
to block these aromas?”
i called over my shoulder
“Yeah, but we have to wait
for the initial sweep, as smells tell us
as much as any other sense,” my doomed answer came

fuck me, i hate this work
i forced my body to obey
i walked and placed my hand
i pushed the giant creaky door open
waves of smells and lingering magic
crashed against me

i love this job

the food chain

image by +Shelby Goatz on Google+

the basement was a disgrace
it was listed as ‘finished’
a cheap, badly painted cabinet
does not a finished basement make

i saw him in the corner
whimpering about being hungry
vampires are so irksome when
they shrivel up
he didn’t even have the balls
to come talk to me
and he wouldn’t have had the sense
to apologize for wasting my time

he just moaned in the corner
curled in a ball
and he smelled awful
like the last meal he had
was a desperate housewife or something

if i have to visit one more dreary basement
i’m going to make the markets pay
for wasting my time
it’s an epidemic
maybe next time i’ll introduce
capitalism into the food chain
sooner rather than wait for technology

let’s go to the next house
and see if humanity gets to
survive another day

wicked witches should not live in wet climates

image titled “Swarming” on Flickr

each drop of rain
is a sliver under the skin
a stab of pain
a heart attack waiting to happen

wicked witches should live underground
or in deserts
but not in places that receive
year round rain

the good witches can prance around
in the fucking rain
but they can’t tame
as many beasts
or capture hearts in jars
i’d rather have the power

why did the coven insist
on moving here?
i’ve always known
she was mad as a hatter
but this threatens us all

maybe the ritual we will perform
will make the rain painful
for the good witches too
maybe it will transmute the pain
for everyone, not just witches

our coven could pull it off
even if half the rainy days
became swarm days, for example
it could be a new heaven
for our coven
i’m so excited now