If you un-fastened the straps on our mind
Then you’d see neither of our intentions are righteous
You can drop the nice guy bollocks now
No good boy sulks around this part of town
I got personality painted demons to quell
Plus another night of suicide to postpone
And I’ve been where you are now too many times
I’d recognize that shit eating grin you wear on anyone
I don’t know what she did to incur your wrath
But I hope it cuts her up inside
When you print a molar shaped insignia
Right on the showcase angel that is my neck
I hope the bridges you were aiming for get burned
As you cup the silhouette around my breast
And I hope you start to feel sick
When you look upon my glorious disease
Inside your bedsheet the next morning
And you realise the gravity of what you’ve done
And the gravity of the devil you’ve now committed with
Domestic Poetry 