what have i become. .
what have you made of me, mother?
what have you sculpted, brother?
carved to perfection,
into an ivory soulless wreck,
a hopeless mess, high off morbidity and agony,
carved to perfection,
to attend to your lavish needs,
of a stripped youth,
hidden under a blood stained carpet floor,
and you do it so lovingly,
as i reach for air,
when you've buried me
six feet under.
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 9:28 PM UTC
what have i become. .
what have you made of me, mother?
what have you sculpted, brother?
carved to perfection,
into an ivory soulless wreck,
a hopeless mess, high off morbidity and agony,
carved to perfection,
to attend to your lavish needs,
of a stripped youth,
hidden under a blood stained carpet floor,
and you do it so lovingly,
as i reach for air,
when you've buried me
six feet under.
