Poetry Blogs (bloody depressing)

Crazy young one 

 your time is soon to come. 

Keep shoving those rails up your pretty perfect snout. 

You think your a king, 

from the head you boast about. 

Your smile woo’s the weak,

followers who prey. 

Leaders shy away from you, 

your a black sheep, eating dry hay. 

Women worship you for your charm, 

men beg you for your promise, 

You smell of sadness and ...

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Surprised how slim you looked, how young,

red cotton briefs that made you look like Sybil Starr,

my room the way it was, the bed half-broken.

I lay, my body rhymed, at last, with yours,

though clothed: the same smooth legs,

same swelling breasts, the same receiving void

between the legs, the origin of worlds,

here, at the end, yours given, mine achieved.

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