To the oblivion

I’m only staying alive to satisfy you.
Would you get angry if I died?
Brain pickled in formaldehyde,
but still I’m feeling so strangely blue.

Kiss me with the bitter taste
on your lips and let me drown
in the lake of your hasty saliva,
name your wishes,
yet don’t speak the truth,
don’t speak of my past
and don’t uncover your blemishes,
lay your heart slowly
and let it sooth.

We’re losers in our own victory,
you left stains upon my person,
I soaked your skin with my touch,
have let you taste the heavenly hell,
now go and dwell in purgatory.

Laugh! And laugh with irony.
When the judgment day comes,
you’ll hear the swollen symphony,
you’ll beg to hear familiar,
feel the disease of our mankind
and forget your painful agony.


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