- Non-Erotic Poetry
- pathways
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We creep along the pathways
The lights of confusion lie
Ripping trails of sweet blood
We’ve planted our lullaby
Cold blue, so white grain wash
These vines, these vein drip ) dry(first breath of life)
Kitchen knife crisis divine
Why must we die
Ask her if she cares what they do to her
Twist of love in suicide
Our evil has been harvested here
The stillborn rots inside
He screams murder at the pain
And whispers pleas to the sky
And she asks her mother
Why must we die
The bathroom floor tilts
Pain washes up the side
Someone screams from the ceiling
Hitler laughs like they try
Shores of orgasm fall dead
Shivers up the spine
Mark upon the mothers thigh
Why must we die
Crawling up the cellar floor
We dream this forever more
