AN: I'm putting this before the poem…because I have no idea where this came from…(wince) enjoy, it's creepy I suppose, seeing as I'm a girl…I expect I wrote this from a male point of view, but I don't know, ask my head…
Roll, roll, roll, roll into your white linen covers
I wish I could love you
But sometimes, oh, how I have the desire to desecrate you…
Yet you already smell of sweat, someone else's blood,
That awful gin, and cheap cigarettes
Am I the only one who doesn't regret purity?
My gods do not value one who cannot appreciate what nature gave
Spread your legs, girl
What else are you here for?
And all the childhood dreams that you consumed
Just like Prozac, pot or punk rock
You're never going to be beautiful
You wasted the fire in your eyes long before it ignited
Strut around the streets with my broken heart
And when you find yourself pressed hard against a back-alley wall
Why do you call for help?
You left a trail of dust and contempt behind
For all the bad boys to find
Now you're trying to put innocent eyes back on
But your dress is torn
And your thighs are bruised
And you're not fooling anyone
Why do you believe opium and sagging eyelids
Could ever make anything better?
All that white powder doesn't make scars go away
All that intoxication won't make you pretty on the inside
It can't kill the pain your body doesn't feel
Can you name a thing you have not
(or would not)
Put between your beaten lips?
Dark, dark, dark
Is the void
But not as expressionless as your eyes
I still can't tell if hate hides behind
Or simply fear
You tried sliding across the blade
With human sacrifices in your stead
Now you're dying on the razor's edge
And if I still had the heart you slaughtered
Maybe I would try to help you