he knew how to make girls bleed
rivers of coagulated liquid
flowing straight into obscene wastelands
where his whores were smoking powered bone
and sighing at the way
he could poeticise hatred

on top of a green landscape
thunder struck her form into pulses of elevated despair
collisions of electricity blistered her soul
atmosphere pinned her to the ground
and made her unaware of the people
who wanted desperately to assist
accidently breaking the bones in their writs

all she wanted to do, was to watch him
burn another piece of her
she liked the way
his eyes glinted in the fire

for two years she had been walking around
with a knife embedded into her cranium
unable to think
about her instability

the bullets were tasteless
and behind her eyes
he would never be holding the gun
he’d be embracing it