markbousfield

Under torrents of blissful company
I become my best self,
a gleeful nymph in the raging placcid,
a spritely missile of infection
amidst the dignified hysterics of grief.

Life as a vessel for being,
sailed on in the infinite breath of the Gods,
in their wisdom,
over seas of pride and negligence,
oh how I loved you when I bathed in the blood of another,
washing Placenta's remains
from my newly birthed abdomen,
I could see all of the dirt of my lives before,
all the hopes I had discarded with acts of violence
(with knives of all kinds)
emotional or otherwise,

From the first rush of air to the last in my lungs
I feel the burning ambition of existence,
in your favourite of all esoterics
I lay the human condition to rest with you.