- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Hiatus
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I'm tired of these gilded days,
Mahogany and silk,
The nobles, prophets, kings, and queens,
And those of sim'lar ilk.
Singing-crystal chandeliers
Should all be smashed to shards
And every single game of chess
Should burn with all those cards.
I'm sick to death of roaring fires,
Shadowed halls, and books,
Secret marble passageways,
Tapestries, and nooks.
My lovely world is now no more.
I'd crawl inside my skin
'F I thought that I could bring myself
To come back out again.
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