Some Other Monster

The prose below; well, it's almost definitely not about me...

There's no guilt in my mirror to see; it's some other monster...

A frigid monster that needs to find what makes you tick

When it touches and tantalises you and makes you slick

One a second rising and maybe more when you're excited

Maybe quicker still in a fevered climax that's unrequited

It's not about a memory of mine, there is no reflection...

I'm sure it's about somebody else, who cannot be sectioned...

A somebody, or something, that will coldly pare you apart

It will splice and dice you, until it finds your bleeding heart

For it will be there, in the dark of the night, at your behest

As it caresses you with fingernails ready for a razor's quest

It's not about me, for I'm sure I've not been alive forever...

It's about a malevolent creature, probably undead but clever...

In a procaine haze it will split your sternum when you've given up

And it will hold your icy heart and from an artery it will gladly sup

It will drain you dry and take your will, but it will be sure to suture

And without any reflection, you will be trapped in forever's future

The prose above; well, please tell me that it's not about me...

And it's about a monster I'm unable to see; some other monster...

She's Stalked By Her Insanity

Somewhere in a cold dark place, deep down and dead
Her aroused insanity gorged as the pompous feeders fed
Every egocentric medium, of every shamanic sham
Seduced and fooled her and didn't give a tinker's damn
She's stalked by her insanity and she lives with lies
The impossible quests behind her corrupted guise
And now she's sure she talks to those who've passed
Leaving no room for doubt, there're no questions asked
Keepers of the imaginary charm with delusional candour
Evoking reunion beyond death, for they choose to pander
Dreamscape phantoms inveigled her with beguiling hope
Biding their time to guide her through the mystical trope
Yesterday has been and gone and it cut her like a knife
Her sorrow deepened and now she needs tomorrow's life
Every nightmare's a haunting memory and is there to coax
Reflected in the smoke and mirrors of a utopian hoax
In a full moon phase she will talk to no one with eyes ablaze
Not knowing that she's meandering through an endless maze
She's stalked by her insanity, it's gradually getting closer
An unyielding ominous presence that's in need of closure
Nothing matters though, turn the cards, it's crystal clear
Inside her head she's now with those that she holds dear
There's a place, cold and dark, where she hides the facts
Yet she was last seen wandering on moonstruck tracks