Blood-Shot Lips and a Hard-On
Blood-shot lips,
And a hard-on;
I break the heart of death.
Vultures scream out an oath,
Then slam the walls
In frustration.
Think not of their cries;
Forget the words
Of a screaming death.

Holding out
A tear-stained letter
From the Reaper,
The child
Gives me an odd look.
I turn away,
For I cannot bear to remember
That which brought
This child into being.

A blackened heart
Turns to dust,
And returns to the Earth as Ash.
I breathe it in,
And feel a high.
Blood drips from my lips,
And falls upon the dry, white rose.

Forget
The Forgotten.
Forget to forget,
And remember
the song you wrote for me.
Death, be not proud,
The world has not ended.
For now,
We can lie down to rest.