Before you think I've gone off the deep end (although, that might be completely true)... This poem was inspired by several randomly chosen cards from the game Cards Against Humanity. The game is hysterically funny and disturbing at once. In this piece, I seem to have tapped ever so slightly into my dark side.
A Bloody Pacifier
His penchant for the macabre
was increasingly controlling him
What used to be purely indecent thoughts
that he could push beneath true desire
Were now fighting his every effort
screaming to be heard.
He did not know where these inclinations
abominations and frustrations were coming from or
where they would take him
What he did know was that they
could not be allowed to surface, acted upon
What he knew was he was sick.
His head filled, expanding with images of dead prostitutes,
chunks of bodies, pieces of fingers, sections of leg, piles of torn clothes
beautiful long auburn hair separated from its scalp, crumpled in a pile on the floor
Why did he envision these things
What horrible, twisted thing had happened to him
in front of him, near him, in the other room, to a friend?
He tried to remember
Where he was
What he was doing
He tried to forget
Who he was
What he thought.
He could not block it out any longer
When the visions exploded from his mind
to the outside world
When his body was no longer under his control.
He accepted
Who he was
What he wanted.
His inner turmoil exposed
How peaceful it all now was
How so much of his anger was gone.
He would never fight it or question it or
deny it or suppress it or analyze it again
Why would he
When the instant he accepted it
was the first moment in his life
he felt love?
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