Come stitch up your tattered heart
With thousands of tiny razor cuts
Look how bright the welling blood
Keep it wet or it'll cake like mud
Feel how strong each shuddering beat
Slippery and slick with heaving heat
Hear how fleeting your fancy tune
How soon it'll all come to ruin
Taste the tears that fed your flesh
My embrace like a slithering sash
Savour your last breath of swine
And now, let mine be thine.
wingsofdeath
Monday, 19 March 2007
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)