HEMORRHAGE

Skimmed-Scam Non-fat Ice-Queen Bitch,
Turn around so you can’t reach,
So you can’t scream in that high pitched
petty little freckle of a voice.

Physically fitted to drink on the brink
Of the five corners in that ancient,
Paradise-like, odorless, one-roomed,
Ridiculously clever thing you call home,
Beds like stone, ceilings made out of bone,
A verbal hemorrhage
Every time you open the fucking door.
Nice coffee table…
oh, sorry, it didn’t really look like a dog.

Hang a picture here and there,
Sweep the food and mop your hair,
sing a song, pass the bong,
or simply try to play along,

I`ll have some meat for breakfast,
I`ll cook and knit and kiss your feet,
I’ll do whatever you ask
(even come back from the past),
As long as you promise that this won’t last!