family lies

untie our blood

hard to believe

the people you looked up to

are lying

burning off my roots

they will collect the ashes

I don't feel safe here

accepting

they point fingers

I am wrong

they are right

every time I comeback

nothing has changed

they look the same

I misplaced my trust

they laugh when I fall

I brainwash myself with the good memories

we can't go back to the time

pulling out the knives

they cut me deeper and leave me bleeding

let me bleed out

I don't want the blood of hypocrites

bathing in our blood
you took the best of me

Why do pigs make so few appearances
         in all these poems?

Is it because the flower does not bleed
         when sliced by a knife

And **** does not ooze
         from the backside of the moon?


         Is this not beautiful, too?

China doll on stilettos
a foolish man's meat
on a harlots fork