Your husband counts money in bones
Sit inside a contemptable whole
A ceremony that few can attend
Celebrate the future that I'll never see
Kill me
Before I
Run the
Country
F*ck me
Before I
Forget the feeling of desperate longing
Or the look of soured expressions
Or the smell of sex
Selfish and immature
Bullets and contrary motion
Talons and sexual implosion
Collapse
Collapse
Collapse
Myopic and self-inflicted
Malnourished
Futurists be damned
Brutalists
Tell me of your plans
The infinite
Cemented shut
You can't expect me
To feel this
Cut
Living entombed
I'm happy
Yet I cry for
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
I never asked for help
We've only been given shame
It's easy to be idle
But hard to crave
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death
Death