Stings from yellow jackets inside blood-stained crimson walls
Each knife sharpens, deadly edge at the tips, cuts deeper into the tension
A thump of vibration echoes from outside
Wounds becoming reopened, showing their fangs
Every sting beckons that I’m alive
How do I feel alive when I am bleeding among the same hand that betrayal plays?
Spinning in soft nectar and venom fingernails, a web that digs into my skin and spreads into a warm blanket for the scars left shown
Gasping for oxygen, saying you can poison me any way you like
Those who seek morality seek each truth with a lie
In the muck of grey matter, I find myself singing
I want to live in your mouth
