I feel like a hoodlum standing outside a memorial
With cans of neon lit paint in my backpack
Complimented by a small armies worth of explosives
Ready to set hell on a beloved artefact with my insignia
All to quell my impulsive decisions
Yeah, that’s how I feel right now
When your perched upon my mattress in the afternoon
With the slits in my curtains raining on your skin
Showing just how perfect your design really is
Each curve tailor made to my exact specifications
Each imperfection made to compliment your excellency
Laying my grubby fingers upon you now
Would be the worst fucking crime I could conceive
Like rubbing grease all over a Mozart sheet
I just wanna die
If it means I can cower out of this mess
Run for the hills before I poison you anymore
Your flying with angels on pale light nights
And I’m greasing the gears behind the scenes
Please just pull the trigger and leave for good
As I continue to deface your form even more
You permit my ascension to the sacred place
The fumes starts to slowly creep inside of me
I start to hear the taste of each bead of sweat
As it tunnels into the folds of my mind
I can’t feel the guilt I should be
I can’t feel anything anymore
You don’t deserve this, not even for a second
I can only provide a fraction of what you deserve
Olympians soaring from the coast docking on Clacton’s shores
Travelling from miles on end just to get a glimpse
Of that smile on your lips
I just wanna die
If it means I can cower out of this mess
Run for the hills before I poison you anymore
Your flying with angels on pale light nights
And I’m greasing the gears behind the scenes
Please just pull the trigger and leave for good
Don’t shoot for bronze when you can get gold
Without even trying
Domestic Poetry 