Poetry archive from the mental hospital

Vodka and a Shaking Bed

Staying silent is hard, but to speak up is to die
The way you wrote was tantalising, now it hurts more than the kisses on my thighs

I don't know how those got there, so I'll slice them off one by one
Baptising my body in blood for the pleasure of your tongue

Stab me with you gentle touch and breathe into my screaming lung
I'm sorry that I let you down
Unconscious yet still evading
the death to which I'm bound

Will I ever stop surviving?

I'll close my mouth now
It's time the devil took his turn
Let's dissipate with the poppies
maybe tonight I'll never return