Friday 7 December 2018


Mouth like a gunshot
Bleed when you kiss me
All eyes blind
Did those fingers miss me?
Cut like a cut
Within me
It seems these wounds
Are smiling

I'm the violence
That learned to paint
Inside out
To make a saint
Oh, mortals
So little of love

They killed me
It is still, my life
I'm not your friend
I'm the Anti-knife

Gathered a thousand skins
But nothing worn
Murdered the king
And took his fucking form
Bless me

Milton's ear was good
For whispers
All belongs to John
Fill this blood with stars
When I'm gone
Trust me

I don't think you understand
I look just like someone
You used to know
Oh, mortals
So little of love

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