I need you to scar with your most true hate,
                                                                       into my face.

I need you to carve flames fiercer than my regret,
                                                                       into my face.

I need you to produce gashes as figures of sincerity,
                                                                       into my face.

I need you to be afraid of my body -
                                                                       the deformities you caused to terrify you.

I need you to erase your being - to scatter your ruins,
                                                                       down my throat.

For future imitations,
                 I need you to be present.

For future imitations,
                 The true ones will scorn you.


The true ones will never get through,


You need to be held.
                  You need never be forgiven.