To Kitty, because yes, I actually fucking do hate you sometimes.

Your mouth bespeaks your glory itself

an intoxicating delusion in which you cloak yourself.

The wind gusts are silence, they ignore your voice

But fuck the meadow, who would live there choice?

Regrettably I'm sorry, but I think I may have lied.

Implying that heart you willingly killed didn't die.

So you banged my poor Kitty? I'll give you the nails.

Send me his skin in the motherfucking snail mail.

So, with a quiet grin and some silent grace,

I whip out a big fuck you with a smile on my face.

But no hard feelings, I'm prophetic remember.

The bigger they are, the harder they dismember.

So I suggest you pick your coffin, give up the will to live.

If you expect to see all the fucks that I actually give.