monologues

are more fun to write than one would think.

"You flinch back from me, as though my very hand would brand you.

Are these fingers poison then?

These lips drip lead in place of words,

This forked tongue curled behind serpent's fangs?

Is this what you see? It is him.

No doubt you're warned these tears are farce,

this pain a practiced melancholy.

He is a prophet foretelling the past,

a silly magician's parlor trick!

Go then,

before I further sear your flesh with these

all too filthy palms.

Remember though, I would sooner scratch

out mine own eyes, than put a single fleck

in the corner of yours.

This body is of no use to me now.

Blood does not boil and bubble

as the inexperienced will say,

rather, it flows in communion colored rivers.

Too much liquid for so small a vessel.

Streams of this from self opened arms will spell my innocence."