Orgasm - Poem/Diatribe

Like an incipit ghost
She wanders around
Pretending not to be dead
I feel the wheel of chaos it's turning
Caught in the charm of the moment
I beckon
"As long as it's something sinister,
I don't mind," She starts morosely
looking away to blow on a cigarette
"I like your idea of fun
I can only get off if it's naughty
Yes, it has to be naughty
Guilt and fear only, make it worth it
Though a far distant spectre
I don't feel those things anymore
I've pressed that button too many times
I just toy with myself,
Maybe I'll feel again
Tempting myself with something untouchable
Again.
I, the willing self flagellator
I flagellate my emotions over by back in quick nasty pride
like a whip of nine
I crave a split!
I crave blood!
But blood cannot come
I can't hurt myself any longer
Not because I choose not to
But because I don't feel hurt
In a spacious cloud prison of mind
I only feel a faint thud or if lucky, once every now and then, a light scratch
I lick the wound up quickly
Embracing the moment
Thanking the Gods, I have felt something, anything
Feeling
I am a shell
A husk of a shell
of a husk of a shell
Immortal
Cursed
Forever wanderer
A shadow
Death cannot be found
Because I am death
And in this sense
The doing of death can only be had in the living of my life."

-- Montego Ikarus