waiting patiently for my resurrection
as flames lick wildly at my flesh
someone once said to me, solemnly,
"through the fire we're born again,"
only in a baptism of holy white serpents,
can i cleanse my skin of your hands

it was my turn i suppose
to be broken down to my atoms,
shattered like cosmic debris in the sickening dark,
as it had once been waylie's or even poor valerie's,
bitten too ravenously to be veiled as love,
too hot to be satiated with your ice cold gun

your threats terrify me because i know your mind
but do you know i'll go down fighting?
an endless barrage of ominous phone calls
or tailing from strange cars
will never break my resilience nor
will the fear of blowback from foreign men

i can still taste the liquor and feel the cold on my skin
from the river by downtown, filled with bodies and vile sins
i can feel you biting my ******* and choking me with your-
you haunt my nightmares, ravaging my thighs
black bruises and torn skin - proof that i'm not dreaming
dreams you killed us both wake me up screaming

you were the final straw, the match
as my world went up in flames
but i will bloom again from the ashes
i am stronger than they all say