Grab this flight and run forever,
Hold me in your stare, don’t ever hit me.
If this should get real, I’ll have them fix me,
I won’t be as cruel or shoot the devil’s hornet again.
They can rip my tongue in two and throw it in ashes, for all I care,
Cut my ear lobes so that my blood spills over both my angels…
Cure my meat in brine and tally up my time, even –
I’ll be one phone call away, instead of a mouthful.
Shave me of contempt; with your last breath to your first you’ll feed me,
Keep my jewels in bandages and make them please thee.