Razor Lips - a poem

[WoundedBird]

Again, the razor,
Has kissed my lips.
Lapping sweetly at the dew which drips

He hungers the flavor,
He harbors no regrets
He covets the membranes he gets.

The alter is set,
Ritual begins
No trauma yet
Quivering violet,
How your bud glistens.
Gardener violent,
Shearing is part of
The system. Shrill,
Shrill are the shrieks as he snips him!

Grill of nails, mad man,
Gnashing down upon
The stem. Blue rose,
Your petals are peeled,
Raw and exposed!
Skinned alive, unnatural
Retracted are the jaws
Sinews sticky he licks
Gulping down the petals.
Rosebud writhing, screaming
In horror as he rips

Pale young flower,
Once vibrant, now dreadfully sick!
Earth bloodied with milky leaf tips-

The razor has shorn the blossom,
Destroying the pollen.
Sensorial lamina flayed
The vibrant vine has fallen
Bud badly mutilated
Forlorn, Forever.