Monday 10 September 2012

"Awkward Scrote"

You really were a mis'rable bastard,
not even got half of your own teeth, 
blame another for the problem,
as if it's not solvable by your own hand. 
The sweat of your brow is sour, if it runs at all, 
the sweetness is gone, yet you suck the dry tit, no care 
as Nourisher bleeds, cries pain, begs mercy - 
The greedy child's still wanting 
proof that he's adored - well, must have got mastitis, 
all this love has turned to pus, 
little vampire, I once was willing, now I do as I must.

Strip my own breast, strip down a sick mess, 
Strip my own breast, strip down a sick mess, 
Strip out of my memory the cause of my fear, 
Strip back my mad behaviour to its wholly truthful core.

(18th August 2012)

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