// blood of the innocent //

chandy gb

The steel bars of the past are only shadows now, still I close my eyes, press myself against them and romanticize the sting. When I’m alone inside a mind that too often slips out of her black leather cuffs and escapes me, I fantasize about the way you were the first to bite my lips. How every bone in my new body loosened from its hinges and fell away, how I watched from screened in porches by the light of glass jars filled with fireflies and marveled at the ravenous creatures we were becoming. Awakening together an iron taste for worship of a similar strangeness. Pain forever threaded with pleasure, licks of orgasmic death cradled inside a private nebulous universe just ripening.

The world burns itself for entertainment but blessed are we the holy ones who are bred without lungs and breathe steady underwater until eternity collapses. Bodies marching to the sound of distant trains running off their wooden tracks offer themselves up in sacrifice that we may be born to wander an alien earth. I’m tired, beloved, tied to a tree and your stomach in knots over watching me, so close in dreams you become aroused as the ropes and my wrists struggle to break free. Lace nightgowns, black ink roses on fevered skin, instruments of blind release and trading your safe place for a stab at the ghost of the way we used to be.

You were a fetish I couldn’t put down until every bedtime story began folding us into the pages of eternal dust. You and I, we were born thirsty.

The relentless plunge of your expert fingers is just another hypnotic link in these chains that pull me back to who I was before cruelty ever touched me the way you never did. Who are you that owns the body in my mind? Where have you been leading me in darkness all this time?

As I walk through the days after, every empty street slides up and away under my bare feet. Beneath a concrete urban moon I hold still before you as ten thousand broken cups shatter against the wind. I sip like an abandoned animal the tears from the lines in your hands.

I remember the way we grew up seeking fire and it illuminates the ancient codes carved deep within my cells: skinning our naked knees, crossing my heart and hoping to fly, running, running, running through fields of falling stars across an endless sky.





~ Allison Marie Conway ~

My book of poetry, Vein, is now available on Amazon here.

Signed copies are available in my Etsy shop AllisonMariePoetry here.

All my deepest love and mad affection. x

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Allison Marie Conway is the author of Vein (available now on Amazon) and the creator of Glory Begin Blog & Podcast. Her full body of work is focused on spirituality, sensuality, creativity and inspiration. Email Allison at glorybegin@gmail.com

4 thoughts on “// blood of the innocent //

  1. Anonymous

    I liked this poem quite a bit. It strays far away from the usual sappiness of typical love poems. However, I was wondering why you chose the prose poem over traditional verse. Is it just personal preference or some other reasoning?

  2. Allison Marie Post author

    Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed this. I can’t stand sappiness or typical, so I deeply appreciate your connection to this. An interesting question and I’m afraid I have no reasonable answer. I’m experimenting with the feel of prose versus the traditional cascading poetry (which I’m more accustomed to). Something about a prose narrative gave the words a different kind of freedom and also made this feel more “real” to me, although I couldn’t tell you why.

  3. Tena

    Wow, Allison you just amaze me. I don’t know what else to say. I’m obviously not a #masterofwords like yourself. Lol But I love this. Know that. ❤️

  4. Allison Marie Post author

    I simply adore you. I am without the words to thank you enough! You are a beautiful, beautiful light in my world. I love your presence here, angel light of mine. Know this. XO <3

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