Lady Macbeth

I’ll never be your Lady Macbeth,
But I’ve known the cold love of the deep mask of death.
I’ll fuck your bones clean, but you won’t ever know
the hollowed-out places where all my dreams go.
Your smile’s gone all crooked,
Your teeth are too white,
I don’t know who you are when you come home at night.
You ask me to love you
with cold, distant eyes,
and in each breath of lust I bear
stillborn goodbyes.
Don’t ask me for truth, and don’t ask me for trust,
And don’t say that I can; don’t say that I must.

I’m the heat in your gut in victorious dreams.
I’m the blood on your hands that






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