Doctrine of Dependency

Duct tape smells so fucking clinical
The soles of leather shoes, the rubber on the inside of a tennis ball
Singular potency's of chemical sanitation
It's weave like a bandage leaves red checkers on my face
To blend with each new scratch purposefully placed
Stroke the beard of age before shaving the skin from my flesh
Hair still growing, mind numb, thoughts stopping
Dreaming, senseless and maddening
Rub my eyes with my sleeve, the blood from exposed wounds stains my features
Let me bleed as the fraudulent statues of martyred falsified saints
Do you see these eye's I no longer choose to envisage, as anything other than gleaming
The tears go unnoticed and the sleeve dampens
Picture naught but darkness as the lids of our sights are closed around us
No stars to distract from the moons brilliance, no moon to detract from the nights immutability
Touch the strands, the sinew loosens and the skin unfurls, a doctrine of dependency
Self mutilation fantasy and necessity entwined yet divisible
A love, lust and need for exquisitely pleasurable pain
Duct tape smells so fucking clinical as it binds my head and contracts my skin
I breathe in it's fumes until I can no longer breathe, my nose I expose to the air through cowardice
As water spills from the bath which overflows steadily, I slump to the toilet bowl
Asphyxiation leaving my cock hard, my mind numb and my heart cold, glancing towards the surface
Resigned I sit until the water laps my ankles, pull the plug, unwrap my face and despondent I lay in bed