Actually, they were in exile for ages
Adulation ensnared deep down cages
Senile ataxy exploited their minds
Except it wasn’t that serious, just silly reminds
Her naive seed had sprouted short of me
Poker-face of a conned frail
But I was the one who kindled her bleed
Need not abase yourself it’s sword and sorcery in and of itself
I know I tore you down before your stem was free
The bristletail you became fresh out the slammer
You’ve blossomed and you’re right in front of me
The penitentiary I held you in when you were just an ingenue
Fuck, it all just came back to me.
Actually, she is incessantly beautiful
So, fuck if I’ll ever be sure why she even loved me
Since back then I ignorantly beyond innocently fucked her in the head
God, I swear that wasn’t really me, these thoughts are just some ephemera of what nethermost
despair made up the sinking empire around me
But seriously, had my mind been clear, had I not been a trained pistoleer
I would have never fucking hurt her
Pistol to my head, for real.
We both know it was me who should’ve been locked up and away
It will always be my fault for condemning you astray.
So, I am sorry, my dear
and I owe you unending peace.
POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film. 