High\low Atrocious Poem by James McLain

HIGH\LOW ATROCIOUS
Each thought of you inflates my head.
Of it the monster it starts to feed you;
Drops of venom by you, outside my body.
My/your\mine incentive to feel
a good kind of unpleasant, Em-poison-ment
the blood at/my Command, red veins, losing my reins
the pleasure precipitates in my Out-Law heart.
Forcing my hands to descend In the places,
which 'I' can'; you can't defend, My fingers,
a replacement for your, touching my/our language.
And places too sticky it has pictures of, shut\up. It';
The contact of S.A. be it is palpitating in your\my
thighs to each blowing with high atrocious
like Kris Kristoffer son-your constant teasing
Your satisfaction goes away I'M;
wondering whether you can feel this externally.
My thoughts and their once your full capacity;
where you are, Some pear holder outside, far away.