"I'll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting..."
Richard Siken
You set my soul on fire
pouring gasoline over
every inch of the skin
I inhabit daily
You set my soul on fire
knowing how much it
would burn, leaving
deep everlasting scars
You set my soul on fire
excruciatingly ripping
a person I love so
knowing the pain you'd cause
You set my soul on fire
your face ablaze with
an unspoken contentment
at claiming what you believe is yours
I sit here and mourn
my heart misshaped from the norm
I sit here and weep
at how trampled I was by your feet
I sit here with anger
knowing where to point the finger
twist it round,
with your well rehearsed stirs
that damage, disintegrate and curse
© Sia Jane
Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
"I'll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting..."
Richard Siken
You set my soul on fire
pouring gasoline over
every inch of the skin
I inhabit daily
You set my soul on fire
knowing how much it
would burn, leaving
deep everlasting scars
You set my soul on fire
excruciatingly ripping
a person I love so
knowing the pain you'd cause
You set my soul on fire
your face ablaze with
an unspoken contentment
at claiming what you believe is yours
I sit here and mourn
my heart misshaped from the norm
I sit here and weep
at how trampled I was by your feet
I sit here with anger
knowing where to point the finger
twist it round,
with your well rehearsed stirs
that damage, disintegrate and curse
© Sia Jane