Israel keyes Suicide Poem

 

Where will you go? You clever

Little worm. If you bleed

Your host dry?

Black in your ride,

The night still young,

Streetlights push back the black in neat rows.

Off to the right a graveyard appears,

lines of stones,

Bodies molder underneath.

Turn away quick,

Bob your head to the seat,

As straight through that stopsign,

You roll, loaded truck with lights off,

Slams into you broadside,

Your flesh smashed as metal explodes,

You may have been free,

You loved living your life,

Fate had it's own scheme crushed like,

A bug you still die.

Soon,

Now,

You'll join those ranks of dead or your ashes the wind will soon blow.

Punch in on the clock and sit,

on your ass, playing stupid ass games on your phone.

Paper on your wall, says,

You got smarts.

The test that you took told you so,

But you would still crawl like the,

Vermin you are,

Once your precious power grids are blown.

Land of the free,

Land of the lie,

Land of the scheme,

Americanize.

Now that I have held you tight I will,

Tell you a story,

Speak soft in your ear so you know that it is true.

You're my love at first sight and though,

You're scared to be near me, my,

My words penetrate your thoughts,

Now in an intimate prelude,

I looked into your eyes,

They were so dark,

Warm and trusting,

As though you had not a worry or a care,

The more guileless the game the better,

Potential to fill up your eyes with fear.

Your face frames in dark curls like

A portrait, 

Asun shone through highlights red,

What color I wonder,

And how straight will it turn plastered,

Black with the sweat of your blood?

Your wet lips are a promise of a,

Secret unspoken,

Nervous laugh as it bursts like a pulse,

Of blood from your throat.

There will be no more laughter here,

I feel your body tense up,

My hand now on your shoulder, 

Your eyes...

Forget the lady called luck, she does,

Not abide near me for her powers,

Don't extend to those that are dead.

My pretty captive butterfly colorful, 

Wings my hand smears...punishment,

And tears.

Violent metamorphosis,

Emerge my dark moth princess...

Come often and worship on the alter,

Of your flesh...

You shudder...

And try to shrink far from me,

I'll have you tied down and begging to,

Become my (...) sweetie.

Okay,

Talk is over,

Words are placid and weak,

Back it off with action or else it all comes off cheap.

Watch close while I work now,

Feel the electric shock of my touch,

Open your trembling flower,

Or your petals I will crush.