what is this you lay upon my body

your mouth perhaps
your hands on my ass


your tongue between my legs

think about that


i wonder: what is this curse
i have laid upon my own body
not one of blood
not one of pain



this is the curse of never enough

a thirst for some thing that can't be tasted

perhaps in death / i will know peace

& i shake my head & recoil in disgust

what is this heart break you bring upon

the ones around you - - - - am i so fucked?







nah / there can be no good taste

for in winter the ground is bitter

dead ground / ashes for my tea

rotted leaves for my salad



in the mean while / the snow falls pure white crystals

real snow flakes / not muddied by warm air / these stick

to nothing / gather in whorls on the roads / moved by the

slight est provocation of wind // ah & the wind is bitter too

burns the skins / turns the tips of fingers white / / the artic

you say / well / i could agree with you on that if i didn't know

for a fact / / the wind comes from hell











so she surrounds her self with demons once again

truth / there can be no truth / stuffed down

sandwiched between lies / /



for this i carry pain †