When words fail, I reach for brushes and paint
Pulse is jagged crooked mottled not straight
Demons tap tap away my golden saint
This is what it feels like to hate…hAtE.. HATE
Feet bore markings of purple yellow bruise
Where the hell are the straight lines, circles, squares?
Incoherent thoughts chase mimic, shout, confuse!
I am sick of damned emotional flares - -
Admit you enjoy becoming splattered
Climb to the apex of artistic flop
Filthy glee at being dark, torn, tattered
Throat clog brings it all to a screeching stop
Hatred: broken with divine love and glue
Beauty comes in climax through breaking you
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