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Pleasure In Reverse
eaten up as if by famine,
feasting on undeath
steal your sublime subtle secrets
and your simple sacred breath
open up your stitches
kiss your grisly death
wallow in your future scars
loss is all that you have left
the best thing to ever happen
was when it couldn't be much worse
the wrath of reality
was treasured like a curse
the path of purest pain
plainly pleasure in reverse
the ride is how you died inside
suicide by hearse
blaze in a freezing night
razor through a knot
burnt blistered blackened sunlight
wasted like a thought
frightened flee from tomb, from grave
from shiver to the shock
sight unseen, unsane, unsaved
un-"used-up" then you rot
josh howell
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