This gets easier every time,
the pounding fists on flesh,
The mutilation,
fucking supple skin, fucking supple skin,
tear it away and let the fucker bleed,
I can't change this inner rage I have against this creation that shit me out on a day measured in blocks of time controlling my every movement and thought with their goddamn angles!
Tear my veins from my arms and hook them to the nearest hospital,
morphine comes in liquid form,
Liquid heaven in glass vials,
Arranged in trays, I saw it once,
Had to have knocked over an ambulance to get that,
Or crawled in through a pharmacy roof,
Why does it always have to be like this with me and you,
the imaginary girls of my dreams and the warmth in my body,
Warm, suede skinned lovers,
heating me with passion that burns and never dies,
That kind of fire that can't be tamed, doused, put out,
No place for embers,
just fine ash to toss into the wind,
picked up by a gale,
This burning will never stop,
this passion I have for death,
I want this love I feel
But only the same bloated decaying roadkill awaits me after the gates are closed

If you [Log In] as a member you can discuss this work with others