God, I am not yet dead,
merely bleeding

from the corners of my mouth

a trickle of red wine,
stained chin

my body is not yet stiff,
it will still bend into the

arms of the right man.

I haven't eaten for days,
a stomach empty of substance

I contain nothing and yet
I am full

stretched skin, silver lines of
greed.

I asked for it, with my wondering hands,

the touch of a soft girl, folding
into my thighs like a castle of

cards. I have sinned beyond
forgiveness and I have nothing

to say. Remorseless, a cold
heart that is shaped like a fist,

a flash of coffee coated teeth
biting into an apple of flesh

God, I am not dead

(yet)

but you can no longer see me