head trauma

Trauma, we spoke in the hallway; you put that parasite label back onto me.
Head, my mind, crushed beneath its own weight. Streetlights, America, wet slick domains for cars to crash.
Unknown is where the road goes-- crunches, crutches, recedes until it disappears like my body into dust. This place is no longer mine; I am a prisoner of circumstance. My head swells with fever and will not recede, like your affections.
Unknown are the moans that echoed off my ceiling when I kissed you. Outside was the United States, an open forest to run through naked, but not here. You bask in what you think, which only gives you bloody guilt to wear as it soaks through your white t-shirt in my nightmare. These useless trinkets of time add up to something for every other person, but lately I would rather die than count the moments until, until, until.
Unknown, I have my heart on my palm; it beats, thumps out an archaic symphony, and goes to bed before the witching hour. For so long, this heart, ashamed, guilty, afraid, gullible, has done its time on this Alcatraz. In youth, my love spared the world from pain. Now, we have lost the game. You bore down on me, took advantage of my weakened knees and my girl smile all for a fear you emit.
Unknown is this holding cell; people make phone calls about my condition, run tests, sap blood, flick urine. Inside, I've wrenched my life from its own grasp in your honor and to your horror. My tomorrow is written with bones and ink; until the well runs dry I'll keep slashing and burning my skin.
Today you were porn star stunting, but hope was flowing down a river of smut. The vampire that I am is something you create because you are scared to taste blood. Your body is a planet; a world fractured like stained glass suicide until all the souls came marching into the light.