Violence and Poetry

Am I, 

sharp as a knife?

Digging into your spine.

Am I, late enough?

Well no one was watching.

I need your serpent blood,

so slit my tongue.




A sewn up heart, 

sealed with your piercings.

To fill out our holes.

Sharp nails, 

and teeth,

oh god.



A brand new me,

under tattoos.

With a new you, 

kill me will ya? 

When I love to breathe,

violence and poetry. 



Am I,

in love with a whore?

She does herself with drugs,

all I do is watch her.

Am I,

getting off?

The asphyxiation.

I can’t feel my toes.

Am I, real?

I’m running from angels.

Locked in my room,

will the sun come?



Am I,
gonna do myself in?

Its just that I listen,

to violence and poetry.