My Misery,
Tasting the fruit of sacred ointments,
kissing scars that never seem to heal,
with lips of passionate vinegar.
My one escape from the happiness,
and the truth of it all,
my one retribution cuts, and bleeds me
to the core.
My misery, with comforting long nails,
scraping my back,
pleading me to burn myself more,
A symbol for corporate consumerism,
and the dire existence to.
feed
kill
feed.
seed upon seed, of barren desire,
to withdrawn from this demon,
this venomous snake, with her
tounge of candy, divided into seperate
sweet-tickled desires.
Childhood memories,
can always be turned into fickle fascinations,
the circles can be removed,
with the help of her grace.
My misery,
paint your nails and sing me a song.
My misery,
Siren me a tune and bleed for me.
My misery, bleed your wine and kiss me.
My misery,
Kiss me and then slit my gaping neck.
















Comments
You kill a piece of my emptiness with every word.
--
writers bleed words...
freewill
over
fate...
...which do you choose (pick one)
your words own, as always
--
make me sad. make me mad. make me feel alright?
--
Nyk
Check out ~ekg His words weave the mundane into magick..
--------------------------------
Member of ~dark-writing
\"I Tell You: One must still have chaos in one to give birth to a dancing star!\" ~ Nietzsche
... where did that come from?! genius line, great poem
reminds me of some of my own little beasts.
--
This is hell, nor am I out of it
:icon31: my bloke
--
Kill me, hurt me, fuck me, rape me, you won't have me! ~ Children Of Bodom
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