Purple - HORSE the Band

Sweet sweet pain- like a thundercloud but tears are

rain full fists slapping thudding BANGING RAGING

wanting not to be weak with woe empty hands-she's on

the floor on the floor she SLAMS her empty hands like

thunder it rings in her ears slapping thunder

splashing in the puddles of her tears lungs heaving

from the crashing dying dreaming that was ripped from

her heart while BEATING and dropped all red and sloppy

here, on this clean tile floor.

Now there is a hole

inside, where the ghosts and demons hide, whispering

white wilting words of woe, hungry ugly crunchy

things, HORRIBLE NASTY PERVERTED THINGS.

in her head

her mother whispers «spreading like a whore».

weeping

wilted pile heaving.

weak with tears and dead with

dreaming, wanting to be wanted and wanting nothing

more.