Riding on The A Train

Crystalized, into purple veins that beckon a numb
tingles in the absence of innocence
I hear you come near.
Watching those pearls settle seductively against the aged ripples of your skin
To know it comes, to know it haunts, to feed the fear as it grows
for your anger and self hatred in the dwellings of your own body
have traveled unto me
forced to succumb to broad shoulders and overbearing hands
The angels turn away as the glaze filters your eyes
a child I am not
but a orifice to invade
a carcass to be shredded by scavengers beaks.

In this hypnosis, you have found me, the silent witness to your falling
no cleansing of this pallate as I will surely taste the blood of bites and bruises.
The pearls fall from grace and seeds of negligance race through your corridors
into a heart so cold, a mind so blind, a world so lost in need.
Why must you taint me as you have tainted yourself so?
Why must I know the pain of a needle and the puncture of purity
for your sickness in wickedness envelopes my throat.
Injections of rejection of devotion of lucid photographs,
because painting a family portrait is easier then taking one
when the needle hits the haystack
like the subway line, you've got tracks to prove your travels
I've got scars to prove I was the destination
of memories and anger
of shame and insecurity
but pretty little girls on subway rides into hell are common for the likes of demons

Elegance and acknowledgement of who I am to you to me to us to this
I cry as you invade the doorways
as who you were slips away and who you are is hungered by my youthenized body
yes, youthenized, young and dead at your arms
and I dont want to ride this ride with you
I dont want to travel into terminals of terminally ill
I want to play and be free and smile and laugh
as you scorch any hope for escape.
And the doors are open, the eyes are closed
but the acrid substance swallows your inhibitions
self control has died
jumped off the cliff and fell so high

I am not your platter, I am not your feast
I am not a rider on your subway of pain and destruction.
I am a child unknowing, unsaved, unnecessary in your conquests
to feed the white liquid which taints your crimson
I scream to a God that cannot hear me, to a heaven so high as hell is warm.
and I know not which is greater
the need for the tracks or the need for flesh
as you take and use and care not when sober comes.
smile again into my deep brown eyes
as I know tomorrow will bring another ride on the A train.
The conductor shrieks "all aboard."
And I die a little, wishing I were high, to get away from this, from you.
I'd walk a thousand miles before I'd ride that ride.
A thousand and one.