I cut your heart open with a knife, And drink you up like the elixir of life. My body would now be the perfect host To house the remnants of your ghost Forestalling your indignant daily riposte.
At the dining table, I compulsively realign Silverware. I take a crystal glass, pour red wine, Knowing I’ve committed a murderous sin Goosebumps form on every inch of my skin Dark memories resume within.
You spoke to me of girls undreamed-of You taught me lessons of absent love Such stories only fed my vengeance, And now my body pays it's penance; Flesh laid bare. A life sentence.
Tonight, I trace with fingers, tramlines of Forgiveness; my Mourning Dove. I am now so pure, and Satan Cannot punish me with rattan Palm. I was never part of his grand plan.