i want you back
to **** me again
perhaps
this depression is better-
at least i know what it is
at least i know what i feel
like dry acid down my throat
like gold mines down my gut
like a fly dead on my skin
the certainty when i enhaled
a mouthful of anthrax-enigma
and swallowed it after
screaming full
full of content
should i die tonight
at least
i knew the last feeling i had
perhaps
this depression is better
by a hundred-fold of rotten rose petals
by an extra cup of bane
by a last careful blink
perhaps
it is
perhaps
it is
than this feeling
i will never fathom what
how, why- why me
again- how- again, again
perhaps, it is not really what
that matters
perhaps, it is knowing what
that leave dents
certainty, i want you back
to **** me again
id rather die with your bare hands
than these of mine
smother me
to death
to death
tonight
© rekenerer
xrpt: qrtrs nd cntng
vol | none