Make it quick.
You are already
killing me slowly
dragging me
through the snowy
thorn covered field,
making my flesh bruise
changing it from pink
to blackish blues
as you spread the abuse.

Just make it fast.
slip the blade past
my ribs and up into
the heart you broke
as you choked
the land I loved
as you grabbed
children by the throat,
while you demonized them
with shaded lies.

Your corruption is poison
and I am tired
of writing the same poem,
so just **** me now.