Bracelets of blood form like manacles;
Trickling essence stains; the record of a journey,
As you kiss the night goodbye.
A faint smile plays around your lips:
You have achieved your aim,
You wanted to inflict that pain.
You desired to feel faintness take its hold.
Lusted to see the world closing in.
Hungered for reality to become that dream,
So you forged girdles around your wrists,
Cut with scissors your own flesh.
Now the "God of Wine";
Of that "sweet red wine of youth"
Takes you down
To Hades, where all are alike.
You know you have achieved your failure,
That you took yourself further than anyone managed before.
Set to music, your own voice fades,
And obsessed with the femininity that defined you,
You bleed from your most internal,
Coursing through you:
And blood drips from your mouth as well,
As in those final moments you puff and pant.
The paleness of your skin and this
Makes you look like a vampire of the night.
Maybe you are.
Maybe you are not real.
Maybe you are dead.
"What you feel is what you are,
What you are is beautiful"
What you feel, is cold.