The Creeper

Andrew McGowan

The fire is burning out
But the smoke is black as night
I can barely breath
I can hardly speak
All I see is a dark silhouette
That vividly resembles the curves of your body
All eyes are on me
But my eyes are sewn shut
And I’m biting my lip to ignore the pain
The sting of the aging iodine
Sinking into the self inflicted wounds
Now I’m sleeping in a coffin
And I’m sleeping in a tuxedo
Dried vomit is stuck to the boutonniere
Where did my cigarettes go?
And where the hell is the corsage I meant to bring you?
Kids are crying upstairs
As teenagers scream in the basement
And all the while the punk rock blasts so loud that the windows on this old house shatter
And all the while I’m counting the days
Seconds since we last spoke face to face
But I think I lost track somewhere in the late hundred thousands
Either way you have me brainwashed
Longing for your touch, taste and embrace
Enduring the agonizing effects of infectious affecting
While you are out and indifferent to my pain
So I’m sorry if I creep you out
For I am the creeper
The one with the waxed face and shaved scalp
The sunglasses at night and black lipstick wearer
Who streaked messages in blood across his own flesh
Just to attain your empathy
With eyeliner outlining these pupils without pigment
That stare at you constantly until greater forces pull them back
For a merciful chance when I can exhale
And you can feel safe