I am a blade, raw and ******. I am the strike of a match,
The lighting of a cigarette. Where ashes fall, I am born again.
Burning lace and handcuffs. A bar, a drink, a ****. In one hundred years
The liquor in my body will coat my pearly bones. My blood will have boiled,
And maggots will have heard me call your name, over, and over, and over again.

Inside my head there is a rifle. Time and time again, I will **** it,
And shots will ring out through the chapel I called home. I will watch moths
Fly into fire. I will watch doves slam their delicate bodies into foggy windows.
I am burning with the same intensity I was born with. I have died a thousand times

For sins living in my own home. A wolf calls at night, and there are its pawprints
In the snow, coated in blood. And its pup has been dragged away
In the name of the Lord. I’ve walked through woods where I should have been killed,
And I have seen your heart there. I palmed it, watched it rise and fall, and heard it scream,
“Release me. Release me!”