Take me, Satan, for I have sinned. I fell down on the job, fell down on my sword but with no real purpose or cause. A martyr for the sake of martyrdom is as useful as a parka in Mexico.
Slit my wrists with a freeform kiss. Cracked teeth, cracked skull, saltine crackers. Counting calories, skipping meals. Did it hurt to ascend from hell, and how did you wash away the grime?
I want to believe that you love me but the world is unkind. I need a shot of reassurance like a shot of eighteen year old scotch, neat.
Rapid fire rejection, thunderstorms of doubt. **** me with a smile. Rebuild my psyche, brick by brick. Mortar me, babe, and I'll adore you for it.
Melt into my mind and live there, the mice who currently occupy the quarters are hungry for touch.
Ride my metaphor like a throbbing **** longing for release; please, release me.
Experimental piece I wrote before I had my first cup of coffee.