the I of decay

take a sword,
or take a silver pen

doesn't matter.

erase the linings.

and when you leave me,

please take my wishful thinking -

no? oh, go ahead, take everything

can't break what's already broken

be gentle if you want to watch me suffer

do you like that?

do you like the taste?

i've got nothing to offer but metal and ruins

no, you can't stay here

this is a prison, not a shelter -

there is no room for grace

but you won't be needing her anyway

you can spit her right into my face

i know you love to watch things drip

so i saved you a front row seat, my dear

and we both know you don't belong here,

but neither does the knife you left in my back

i'm just reminding you, in case you ever need it

come find it - anytime - inside this rusted carcass

we will be here waiting
in the I of decay
just for you.