You're vicious, malicious and broken inside
I hoped that you healed but you only learnt to hide
You lied and denied, waited on tears and tooth
As we tried to uncover your demented truth
You bled and fled satisfied with your art
And I was stupid enough to trust in your heart
So maybe it's my fault I'm in this position here
Beaten and broken, left bound by rope and fear
Waiting on you, my precious little beast
For one final outrageous feast
Had I ignored what you became?
If I had noticed would we be the same:
Broken little monster with blood on your lips
Knife in hand and gun on hip
Or would we be free of this pain
Free to love, to mention your name
Maybe it was my fault, or maybe it was yours
But I tell you now my old friend,
Not all is secrets behind closed doors
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem