Septic Whore

Sorrow…pain…hate…grieve
There is still a dormant wound on my conscious
When she crucified my heart
Poison leaks into my spine
Dissolving my system from inside
Like morbid lovers leaving each other behind
With nothing more but tears in their eyes
It’s like dying a horrible death
A thousand times I guess
Suffering catatonia is better
Than suffering a septic whore

By Rian Vorster
Published: 4/10/2008		 Your Contributions: Tell us a Poem! You don't have to be a Buzzle.com author to contribute to Poetry Bee. Submit a poem of your own right now!
 
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