Aim high

my pillow's skin bears teeth marks
and invisible lipstick between
shreds of last night's dreams-
feeble mechanism,how your bones
grow weaker with each new
snowfall and week!
the lie I've been telling myself
for so long is wearing thin,
despite strong coffee,blue nails,
even my fleshy peonies...
if only I could keep the ghosts away
for a few more days!
the sound's unbearable
-metal wheels on rusty limbs-
yet unmistakably delightful;
at some point of the torture,
your aggressor becomes your lover...
... and I laugh at my pain,
drowning it in a sea of words
I myself fail to believe;
be wicked,stand tall,aim high,
even if it means lying
to your insecurities
in broad daylight!
as good and evil are intertwined,
so is my soul's carousel ride-
high or low?
what will it be this time?
and...why?