Bad Poetry Dump 3096

still drunk still dreaming

Please
Get out of my head, get out of my dreams
Go home to your own
I'm sure that they're not pleasant but
They can't be worse than this
Please
I feel sick to my stomach
When my hands are in your stomach
How many more nights
Do I have to stroke your hair
While you die between my arms
And bury you beneath the floor
So that they don't defile your corpse

Please
I might want to kiss you someday
But I don't want to taste blood
Not knowing if it's mine or yours or theirs
With bits of guts between our teeth
Again whose are they, who's to say

Please
It's not romantic
When our lungs are hanging out
With all our bones strewn all about us
On the table, on the floor
Please
I'm longing for your touch
But I can't tell if that's real
It will never be more intimate
Than you ripping out my spine
Or me tearing out your nerves

Please
I know I said it feels clean
But that is only in the dream
When I wake up I am filthy
In a way that leaves a stain
That I never can wash out
Or conceal beneath my clothes
A scarlet letter on my breast
But when I wear it I'm not proud
I just wish that I'd been hung
From the gallows as I should have been

So please
Go home go home go home
I'll save you somewhere else
I promise we'll both live
But this isn't the way
The answer isn't underneath our skin
It's in between our hands
Anything more is just sin