Her Blood pulsing Novocain veins
Candle wax lips, burning red hot
Cigarette perfume, mint dip deodorant
The new chanel number five.
Black skirt above scraped knees
Picked at old scabs of blonde straw hair
I’ll wait, she stains the sheets of another lover.
Blood like whiskey and soul she did not keep
Moving in shameless stride
Only coin between our love
On her back, she flops
Eyes like stone soup soaking in frothy pain
My hide, all too rough to keep
Hers, paper-thin, cuts like glass
Eternal sleep, my love won’t slip
Buffalo Bill, her skin I’d love to wear
The most formal suit I’d have
I could wear with cuff and tie
For every demon needs his pound of flesh
Quarry eyed she glares
Sniffing up her shot
What soft skin
To see her packaged in ice.
King of eyesores,
A baby drools for his mother’s teat
Tiny chode all too exposed
Pushing on the zipper
Regrets collect like dust on a shelf
1,025 tiles on the ceiling,
Recount them if you’d like.
Belly like porky pig, waiting to be gutted
Benjamin stops me every time
Always thick and crisp
Fresh, stacks upon stacks.
Tearing through sheath
Relief does run
Spinning, eyes stay wide
His pelt too tough to skin.
as if it were a bullet through his heart.
This creature rarely seen,
light burns goblin flesh.
Limbs separate and mangled
Exposed they lay bare
Snow white in her icebox
He left me laying there.