I despise you
not for being the sexist, fascist, racist,
unreliable twit you are,
but rather for making me say
"I told you so" to myself,
for the fourth time.

destroy me, push me down, hurt me

kick me, kick me until i go numb

make me cry with your words, don't show mercy, lash at me

hit me straight on my face, hit again on the other cheek, hit so hard that my brains tremble

tell me how useless i am, tell me how stupid i am, tell me how much more insignificant i am

don't let me sleep, don't let me be, don't let me do anything

**** me slowly with your cruelty, torture the life out of me with your abuse

comment on everything i do and all my faults and get mad at me every time i do something wrong

always remind me of who i am and what my place is, but don't remember my identity, instead shred it into bits and throw it away, so that i will be nothing but your toy

make hearing my name only a reminder that i'll never hear it the same way again

make my name a symbol for a blind dog that is beaten even after it stops whimpering

don't warn me, punish me straightaway, do whatever you want to me without asking

tie me to the wall with chains and make me perform tricks like a dog

because i am your pet

Knives aren't meant for playing
Hands aren't meant for hitting
But tonight I have no limits

If pain was a person then I'd be its scorcher
Put flames in my veins I consent to this torture
Beat me if you want, it'll take much for me to cry
I'll show my enjoyment, I have no reason to lie
Never been scared of blood
That's including my own
And they'll never know I'm addicted
I lock the door to my room
Just me and all my weapons of choice
They give me love so good that I lose my voice

~Corona Harris~

I’m a ******* for love,
I couldn’t give you up

Sweeter dreams of yesterday
Are a lust that’s gone today

I’m a ******* for love
I gave my all not to give you up

Writing rhymes of wondrous romance
Trapped in feelings like a trance

I’m a ******* for love
Take the beating, give a hug

It’s only masochism when not returned
And believe me, girl, I’ll take the burn

A body that is bruised
Can indefinitely still be whole

What matters the most
Is the condition of your soul

Purity and peace
Hopefulness on bending knees

All these things you don’t possess
That you still never took from me.

I am a poet in love and you are immortal.

I savour how you smile at death,

And slip out of my coffin to please another in the darkness,

Like a child running from his mother’s lies.



I have imagined you next to me every night

That it does feel real.

You come as insomnia

As an old idiosyncrasy

As a drug

As the fire-maker;

Smouldering me till the moon feels weary;

Only to return on another night

To never kiss my scars

But to stone fresh blood spores in them,

To let the pain breathe inside.



You stand at the edge of my bed each night

To run your fingers on my body like a needle,

To ****** me with your carnality,

To drench your teeth in my blood like a digger in sand.



So, each night between the poles of nothing and everything

I unmake my bed

Stained with unfinished songs and pillows burnt

To let you in my heart shaped coffin

Because you are the fuel to this stick that runs between my fingers and writes for you.



So, come again tonight,

I’ll whisper you a death song.

You can laugh at death one more time,

And resurrect me with your rejection.

I taste blood as I bite my lip too hard,
I swear I can even smell it;
I see it on the napkin as I dab at it and
I hear it as my heart pumps more through my veins.
It feels slick in my fingers as I graze over
The wound I self-inflicted
And the notion of it surrounding me
Is more or less intoxicating.
It drips down my chin,
Like a tear might,
And I’ll admit the burning pain
Created a mixture of the two.
I don’t want you to think me mad,
I am just passionately mesmerized
At this sick wonder—
Sick, as in it’s making me die.
I have a terminal disease
And this is how I cope
You wouldn’t understand my fascination
Of the death that flows inside me.