My eyes were like
brass balls
clicking together
just below the chin.
And my toes stretched,
twisted around each other
like stereo wires,
tied knots.
My navel
bore into my stomach
while something within
was hacking its way out.
I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't explain.
I could only live
with the knowledge.
I care not for dreamers the Yellow King laughed and said:
There are no dreams amongst the dead.
False hopes, false visions, all your futile tasks:
the fingers of time remove all masks.
I care not for lovers the Yellow King laughed
and cried: Horror, only Horror, can I abide.
The heart, the vow, and the kiss despised:
are darkness smeared across your eyes.
Drink then to the Yellow King,
drink and weep to all the promises
you could not keep up
end the hourglass
and observe the grain that runs
out like hope in dying brains.
