Cut my throat and watch me bleed
truth all over your perfect ignorant lifestyle.
You hunger for my attention like it’s the last piece of cocaine laced cake.
So fatten up! Fill your belly!
Feast on my blood and body
for your own salvation
but I’ll be damned
if you slurp the stoic pain
from my neck and still expect
that I turn the other cheek
so you can drain the blissful viscous drops
of sappy joy from my jugular.
I’d rather receive the canyon deep, whip given gashes
in my back and bare your broken muzzle cross,
than wear your crooked crown of
rose petals and razor wire.
I’m done offering you absolution. I’m exhaling the mustard gas haze of your love.