Cult of the cosmos

Masturbating in the church bathroom

Bleeding onto the safety pins on the tile floor

Death by monotony or familiar fear

I want to vomit

Empty myself of all the garbage you fed me

My internal organs pink, tinged copper

Because poison leaves it’s mark on little girls

I want surgical scalpels between my ribs

I want to appear like my own savior

I want to keep you up all night

Breaking into abandoned buildings because the key is called “forbidden”

I want the hems of my jeans to get caught beneath the wheels of my skateboard

I want other dead kids to sing us to sleep

Whenever we want

I want pomegranate juice on my face

And I want to perform an anatomy study on your hands

I want your ribs against mine

When I stole the key we didn’t take the time to think

I’m tasting green eyes. Your tongue in my mouth before I even lock the door

I want our sin to taste holier than any communion supper

I’ve only ever fallen asleep unafraid in your embrace

I wash your hair and you wash my back

The scent of coffee is better with clean clothes and wet hair