Epitaph (Written in Red Lipstick)

Now
is the time, to write your epitaph
Choke the morbid tap, save the fountain from flooded wrath
Dont drown your sorrow completely but let it flow, in balance
Feel realness, feel warmth. Feel the pulse in your throat.
Feel anything other than a blow to the temple
Cold steel against your skin, rubbing in
Rubbing in
You're not dead yet.
The contemplation
Like a demon in a cave in wait
Its always there, just sometimes quieter
To the point where all you can hear is a faint breath every now and again

Rolling beats transpire like mist over the Brooklyn Bridge
Sometimes minor and grim, sometimes to uplift
Arches of melodies suspended between foggy lights
Planted years ago under starry nights
So many fights, so many died
To get you to the isle
So. What is your epitaph going to write
?

Upheaval in acute degrees
Weather so timely and pristine
To get you where you thought you'd never be
Commas and comas, hell, apostrophes
Surprisingly mild hangovers and early mornings
Porridge between bruised thighs with rain tapping on the pane
Pain is the prerequisite for ink on the plane

These nights
Are killing my soul
The night is to be devoured, not to swallow you whole
Spat up in the morning like the pellet of an owl
Ive been caught in a storm, taking me from coast to coast
Like a half rotten leaf, so drenched and worn
Soft, yellow, and malleable
Gains and losses, perpetually without home
So much to be grateful for
So much to throw myself overboard for
Emeralds buried under a world awash

So fuck it,

Let the demons out.
Put your darkest lipstick on
Wear low and muted, shadowy brows
With a luscious pout
Tight black everything
Cascade of dark tresses framing your face like a veil
Leather heels gnawing at your raw Achilles
To the point you can hear the tendons gearing
But push anyway, hush your pain
Grind your way in
Like sandpaper on thirsty knuckles 
Dance with your shadow
Let go of the know

Feel your skin get hot as you cast that sultry glance
Under a thick and elusive black wide brimmed hat
Chewed lips, heads turned, mumbled words,
That same look back
And you imagine it
The terrain of muscle formations,
Dimples and shadows on pigmented skin variations
Your fingers tracing over the landscape of hills and valleys
That can roll and contract
To course through you
Beads of sweat collect
Between your heated breasts
On the edge of the cup, hard to hold now that its wet

3,5,7,8,
To fermented herbs I succumb, to numb the brain
Smoke streams sucked right up through the open vein
Rust soaking through peeling walls like dry blood stains
Eventually dripping on the track, of the deafening train
So alive and so dead is this quickening pace
My heart is so brittle and yet soaked in this drink
Like hard shards of rain
Perception rearranged
Cells choking in disdain
Almost ready
To play, this game
Except - I dont want these strangers.
I want the thing I can't attain

Addicted to that face,
So imperfect and asymmetrical
Reeking with charisma
Vulnerability so efficiently guarded
But theres the momentary lapses
Where it slips
You cant refrain
Your movements harden
Pupils dilated, aura fallen
- I'm addicted to it
Addicted to knowing you're warm somewhere
Not cold all the way through
Im addicted to believing I can thaw through you
As if I have something to gain
Some sort of power to assertain
But this isnt epitaph material
So I'll let it weep with the rain