I like the obscene metal shards that clash on red, they're true-
The bitter liquid that seeps heavy onto my split bones.
The ceremonial kiss before I enclose my tomb of soft sheets.
and I meet this end with open eyes in the night, knowing.
I fall so easily down, but my legs do not support my revenge-
While God coaxed me to lay obediently in your bed, and to not need of air-
I find that you have kept my gasps in your drawer, and let me convulse before my greed-
In morbid fantasy; I contemplate in the breathes before you awaken
That your eyes do not recall the overtraced outlines of my face and lips-
I dream of sharp knives that tear easily at what little flesh combines us,
and puts us high on a tidal wave, waiting in anticipation for life to once again swallow us whole-
