my carnival

The roller coaster carriage 
bends a turn
and steel, like a winter breeze,
chews at my arm
It is ride that touches the 
cheek of Death
   yet, barely missing it
This is no fun adventure
with fastened seat belts,
but a morbid thrill that experience
teaches you to understand
Behind me, I leave behind more than 
a dust-trial:
words of deep sanguine overspill
and from it, a taste of Sublime
There is something beautiful
   in how it freely flows,
   in how it proves,
I am still human because 
   I bleed
The souvenier,
the traces of scar

And lunging to its peak
the pain enwraps the hand that writes
like brother killing brother
It is the ferris wheel,
a neccesary high that
  keeps things real
I make me sane, not happy 
From within me, my heart,
that distant feeling forthsurges
   to the coldness of a sword
where it is binded
It is not cruel torture;
it is lesser torture
Because I am greater than 
   a circus beast
What better a way living
   is there to express hurt  
   than with blood, as thoughts 
are set free with words?
Even if the carousels
never stop spinning, at least I know
this pain is real.

     Blood is Life and
     Blood is Death
In almost-dying do we feel
   most alive