carnivorous desire
let me see you cry
I've never been in charge before,
but for you, I will try.
beaten or the beater,
master or the slave,
we're both back to dust
as we lie in our graves.
I'm ready for a new life
with a new vice
and new veins sprouting
in my arms, stretching over
into roots
yet I'm never grounded.
find the vein
and punctuate
the blood of the lamb
on our doorpost
pass over us tonight.
I'm happy in my home
a sadist dreamscape.
-
Author:
๐ฑ๐ช๐๐ต๐ฎ๐ฒ๐ฐ๐ฑ (
Offline) - Published: February 27th, 2026 20:24
- Comment from author about the poem: Jonah 4:3
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 28
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
This sounds very Jewish and somewhat old school. A desire to be passed over and coming to Passover. Well done
thank you
You are most welcome
Hayleigh, this is dark and unapologeticโฆit doesnโt flinch. My kind of poetry. Thereโs a raw hunger running through it that feels intentional and controlled. The tension between dominance and dust lingers heavy. Bold piece, my friend. ๐น๐ค๐๐ฏ๏ธ๐ฆโโฌ
thank you
Most welcome, Hayleigh!
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