As I was standing in my own darkness. Covering the horror of the body with white wail, you looked. Away. In to a distance. Determent to see the things that where never yours. The shame. The nakedness. The presence of a shadow.
Blood was covering the toes.
Leaching out puss from a wounded secret place. A privet place. A beautiful place. It's not the hateful nature. It's the blue skyline that hammers me to the floor. Pulsating ear drums. Open dress. Rapture sticking on the knee caps. Cold Hands.
Slightly bloated skin.
On the road covering eyelids in black tar. Denying the bruises. 7th circle of Dante's hell. Putting the foot down at the 5th. Show me the glory of your kind. The river of thought. Show me! I would scratch your eyes out while you molest the glory of young flesh.
Till poison is working.
Somehow we forget the blessings of the throne.
The power of the swollen gender.
Good night and god bless,
Queen of Disorder