Impale my heart then gently rub the wound with lime...
Then drain out my once known self then fill me with grime...
Screaming such a silent whisper I kneel to thee...
Knowing you will never understand why I plee...
I'm just a tool with dismal dreams and a forlorn heart...
I chose to let you back in, but now I see that wasn't smart...
I dance in death, nocturnal bliss is all that I now know...
Come dance with me, ya f*ucking dance, or enjoy the show...
You say I've been given a gift, but this gift feels like a curse...
I never wanted to be insane, or be able to construct a verse...
This is no fabrication, this is truely my once called life...
This is not my imagination, I gave it to a lonesome knife...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem