Non-Erotic Poetryburning liturgy de jure for onewaiting to happen
self musings like so much
auto eroticism, a schism
this concept is in itself,
a work of art
before i ever put it
into so many words
perspective is subjective
and nothing is original anymore
everything i imagine, has
all been done before
but i'll do it to death
burn down the fucking forest
with a borrowed match
strike that, i'm stricken with
some all consuming inane attraction
knowing it can't be known, to
this extent in which it becomes me
the unbecoming features begin
to glare loudly, and you start to
see me for what i really am
mindsick addict looking abroad
for my antidote, my snake venom answer
bite me again and
cure me with a healing poison
half my mind awakens as
the other half drives off a cliff
and again i know a self separation
almost as awful as my
separation from you.
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