By candle light we wait, for the meaning of her gun to make sense,
For the pictures in her head to publish.
Forgive me lord, I have sinned.
And this time the pieces don’t fit together,
The words only trickle off the page.
Kiss the pain off her lips, you stupid little boy.
And drown in her blood because she’s so infatuated with you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very intense piece of poetry written with a great sense of control and pace. - Wonderfu! Neil M.