I THE GHOST-MY VERY OWN HAUNTING

Tiny little knots in excitement
the rage inside a hollow compartment
hide me, please
before you catch this disease
Words snore in piling
crazy days
music laughs on a hangman's stage
violent moment holds a cowards plan
subtle insanity sane at last

Tapping on the wall I hear
though it's plain
that tappings me
disintegrated on presented
untidy dusty fingers moving
traps sprung in gilded sharp
virgin cages
seated on a dripping platter
flesh moulded breaking matter
atomic stardust speaking
shredding causing sensation
pleading moaning my extermination

Underground silence shatters
I love that way night chatters
my lovers carry silver shovels
heaping earth mindless rubble
sealed in silence gathered
hearing still the fruitless tapping
fingers in that gothic rapping

scented breath
collected kept in clear breathing jars
lids of steel forged in younger fragments
healing feeling dragging
still, those fingers tapping