i love you and my love
you love my child
which was born
dead
i heard you
in my head
my loving whore
who adored
my love a perfect
story of horror
a gun to my head
a peace of heart
a piece of me
loving death
And you are dirty
and i count the stars
and you are dead
eating wishes in me
i am your whore
asking God entirely
why my neck stretched
upon sweet teeth
–a gun to my head
always my whore
:: 09302015 ::
