Buried alive, beneath the rhetorical lies.
Of a thousand broken-prayer beads.

Surrounded by all of my....
False hopes.
Fake friends.
&
Some, hornet priests
who are exorcising their own demons.
On a ******* fueled ****** of sadism in it's own right.

On the dark side of the confession booth. This is nothing.

But a divine
waste of my time.
I'll see you all, in Hell.

Bad habit

the moment
you first sprinkled stardust
in my hair
tenderly
caressed my cheek
the husky morning light
throwing faint shadows
bed sheets scattered
hearts caught
by surprise
then shattered
into shimmering bright
as pre dawn
had me forlorn
lost in your
sweat
my tears
kissed away
your tongues mixology
feeding back to me
my tears and my ***
breeding blending
alchemical lust
the birth of
a bad habit
born out of
a good love
this little bird
stuck
in your gilded cage
would become
locked out by
your inner rage
as madness descended
four lives upended
passion
fighting the good fight
biting back against the strain
of this bad bad habit
loves first bloom
birds singing
before the sun rose
you tearing down
all my defences
raw desire
the fire the fire the fire
in your *****
becoming my ******
scribing incantations
secret spells
of love
of dreams
of wanting
with your ***
on my belly skin
glistening in the
early morning sun
when did the love
mutate to ownership
passion became obsession
your misbelief
my imagined transgressions
tearing the silk at its seams
then on your knees
begging to
redeem redeem redeem
too many heartbeats too late
the light snuffed out
stuffing the ****
in loves spout
sweet turned bitter now
just spit it all out
loves lamb slaughtered
throat cut and bleeding out
spitting my teeth on the floor
of our house built on 'love'
feeling my jaw crack splinter
under the strong hands
that once held me "safe'
'loved' me
wed me
then bled me
dry of all hope
love hanging
choked on the rope
kicking me
to pieces
and me
kicking this
bad bad habit

clean.


J.C. littlebird 03/07/2019