Untitled

It is morning.

Damn.

Damn the birds

The song;

the light!

To bruise,to brood

This is my morning meal.

That's my soulfood.

 

No friend I know

Is ever true.

One way or another

They will deceive you.

 

I feel angry--

primitive.

 

These teeth will bite flesh,

This mouth will drink blood

of the false and the fresh.

Author's Note

*shrug* I was crazy pissed.