making blood sacrifices to the gods of my past
like a fucking plea, a beg for their return
but you don't get that. You don't even get a goodbye
and I can only hope that in my latest picture, you can't see the hope in my eyes
shining through from that corner in my mind you've moved into
univited
get the fuck out
I asked you nicely
The blood I let from now on will be involuntary
like when you stab my heart with photos of you and her
smiling like I'm nothing but a ghost
and we both know.
We both know you're not happy
but she doesn't know
nobody knows
and part of me wonders; is that because I didn't carve out
pieces of my skin
crowning you my god?
But I'm down to the bone
nothing to offer
I guess that's what we get.
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