12.06.16
A3II
On the spirit of lash-out
how dare you.
split my remained in two
wake the wildness within my bones and leave the beast
to fend for itself
eat or be eaten by your own pulse.
rattle me enough to shake my foundation, just enough to make me question, just enough to make me want
more, more, more
of your skin across my skin, of your smallest kindness, your touch of humanity, your desire and detachment of all things real – how dare you mold me
soiled your hands of disregard, solid apathy for me to wrap around you
r
finger pointer, you grave digger, you beast maker, you dreamweaver
i pray to one day mussel your bright, tame your wild, infuriate your calm
or at the very best
forgive my beast
and walk away.
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