Sleep My Beauty Sleep

the prince stares
barely blinking
his eyes of obsession
glued to the vision of loveliness
that lies before him

his clothes are soiled
reeking of sour urine
his bowels defiled
how long has he sat here
locked inside his angry mind
numbed by his passions
(they are they same in here:
bound photographs
mouths mute with electric tape
eating shit
their lips raw/bleeding
as eyes blank holes
sightless stare
plucked from their heads
to feed the blackbirds
singing in the courtyard)

he tortures himself
with tiny pins
perfect little beaks
that nip him into
submission

behind the glass
she stares with eyes
blind to this world
those eyes that he loved/despised so much
and looked upon him with disdain
as he presses hard against the barrier
that separates them
a transparent coffin/coffee-table
his flesh crawling
and his cum pisses forth
to streak the her lovely face
a face so lovely in death

mirror mirror
who is the most beautiful of all?
Why death is more beautiful by far
so sleep my beauty sleep
for tomorrow your prince will wake you
once again
 

Speaking In Tongues

I hear voices scurrying like cockroaches
picking through the charred ruins of a
terror-filled landscape
gleaning the flesh from my bones
as the earth trembles beneath me
and devours my bloody screams

I have dreamt of cryptic words
chanting ancient incantations
ugly vowel-filled cavities
a row of consonants like cruxifixes
leering over me all mouth and razor-toothed
grinding syllables to dust

I have felt their serpent-tongues
licking at my consumed flesh
tiny flames of blue fury
feeding me lies and obsenities
until I choke on their foul fevour
and madness beds me beneath
the sheets at night

no-one will understand me when I tell them
no-one will save me from myself
I have long ago chewed off my tongue
muttering bloody gurgles
speaking in tongues

About the Authoress:
 
 

duana r anderson is a creator of nightmares and dreamscapes.  She  currently attends art college, majoring in photography and film where she takes nude photos of people and calls it art.   duana is currently working on a chapbook of erotic vampire fiction, a screenplay for a film she plans to shoot this summer, a photostory book of erotic fairytales and a vamp-erotic novel called Blood Dreams.

Her works have been most recently featured in Amoret Journal, Waning and Waxing, Venus or Vixen, Earwig  Flesh Factory, Tears on Black Roses, and Scarlet Letters and will be appearing in the next issues of Suspect Thoughts, Parchment Symbols and Dancing Skinless.
 
Visit her personal site, NECROPOLIS: The Daughter of Darkness to unearth the worms that  crawl inside her mind.