His finger locks my teeth together

And stitches the tip of my tongue

Into a warzone horizon of madness,

Homes are destroyed; families broken

And still we are lost in our own lives

He, who feeds on his mother’s carcass

Wrecks his caged gaze apart,

My minuscule arms set him free from the light

Guns

       Ships

               Tridents

Pierce my ear with a pint-sized shell

And swallows my religious sentiments

Smoke

          Ashes

                  Flesh

Their sentiments haunt me in memories

Cushioned and stuffed like quilt in my pillows

Burning the effigies into the toxins I swallowed

Down by the valley of romantic deaths

It sipped my soul out of my bottle XXXXX