Tuesday, April 6, 2010

ode to my pocket knife.

She slices my skin to reveal my sin
An coldly watches as my innocence faded
I see the lines of the previous times
Like notches in my bed post.
The feel of the steel makes my pain real
A life of hatred a love of pain
I cry for help but I cry in vain
I try to ignore her but she’s all I hear
Like when a lover whispers in your ear
I fall victim to her seduction
But this ain’t love we ain’t fuckin
As I watch my blood trickle an clot
To form lil red candy dots of my love
 

No comments:

Post a Comment