In Hell Is Where She Waits for Me

I watch the bitter tears slalom down grief stricken faces for a moments time I feel I am the god of

which they speak under the guise of anonymity I masquerade in thrilling mockery an erection

juts begrudgingly from twixt my silken sunday pleats the coffin is sealed face to go unrevealed

but I dare know what lies underneath two bloodless halves of a dark flower dead whose dream

turned the nightmare that dwells beneath our darkened beds how pathetically I broke her like a

doll of porcelain I found her primed for a raping that could never be in wanton fallacy the

temptress played deceiving taunting charming fools like me her silhouette an hourglass whose

sands of time would empty fast