Blood and gore, isn’t that the core?
of lucid dreams and whiskey thoughts
visions of past, rage in my eyes
of flushed skin and her lush lips

In prison of sorrow, I find myself
no longer whole, a husk of a man
What of love? What of passion? What –
Of secrets that are secrets no more?

Pour down on me, your anger, your blames
Let go those kisses, freely given, freely taken
When the sun goes down, take that dagger
**** what’s no more but a toxic love.