I've been possessed by the most
unclean angels
Angels whose wings were clipped by the
Godson
They churn my mind, my mind like butter
and their elbows, they grease with my thoughts.
There are three black birds
in my gut
Each of which whisper to me-
kill yourself, kill your mother
I'm not insane, I am possessed
I am possessed by the
Purest of demons.
No comments:
Post a Comment