These butterfly wings
Just cut through my gut,
And I'm left a ******' schmuck
Tripping over my tongue
And large intestine-
Like a hesitant ***,
Stumbling through disgust
With a slow ingestion of fear.
Quiet the thunder in my ears
Place judging eyes here,
As I shake my paper cup
Fill 'er up, but not too much;
Just enough to feel human.
Cleanse your aching skin,
pay for my sticky sins
And addictions.
I crave to feel your touch
But once our nerve endings brush,
You'll wipe the dirt off and sanitize my love
But keep that point one percentage.
I'll let my own grow with a mother's gestation.
I find comfort in your aged hatred
So I'll build us up, then break it
'Til I'm left lying naked
Next to gritty dust,
To scrub into my wounds
When they open to the sun
Freshly bloomed, memories
That cut my heart so deep;
I'm drowning in my blood,
Pop another lung
As I descend into blackness.
Nothing.
No one.
Gone.

-SLuR