Tuesday, September 22, 2009

War

Shame and guilt and mostly the angst of tomorrow

Discolored flesh, purple and yellow, dots of deep blood red

I despise hope and any rendering of my sorrow

Water my eyes to sprout thorns from my mouth

You are my villain, my disgust, and my lover

Who are you to tell me I can't beat what I desperately hate

And when I finally throw my rising and falling

heaving and crawling heart into your hands

You carry me gently, absorbing toxic liquid

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