Zeta Syanthis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
zetasyanthis) wrote2022-01-01 05:07 pm
zetasyanthis) wrote2022-01-01 05:07 pm
Entry tags:
Poem: Knives
If I now had my kitchen knives
I'd open up my self.
I'd rip and tear and gnaw and bite
and shred apart my health.
From one life to another
I would forever fly
on chords of crushed intestine walls
and surely I would die.
A stinking, piss-filled brutal death
and at last I would fall.
I'd give away my life-blood still.
I'd give away it all.
I'd open up my self.
I'd rip and tear and gnaw and bite
and shred apart my health.
From one life to another
I would forever fly
on chords of crushed intestine walls
and surely I would die.
A stinking, piss-filled brutal death
and at last I would fall.
I'd give away my life-blood still.
I'd give away it all.