the perfect war
the perfect war battles on each day
with weapons so sweet
and blood so red.
rivers and rivers of frosty red blood,
still frothy from the sign of victory.
a finger down my throat
or a knife on my skin-
what's the difference?
it's all the same to me
in the perfect war that engulfs this body.
starve for a day to feel the pain
that lies so peacefully on my tongue.
kill the voices in my head
before i kill myself.
rip my soul out of my flesh
and throw it on the dusty ground.
stomp out the hatred…
stomp out the fear…
stomp out the suicide thoughts…
stomp out the dreams.
and don't stop until the perfect war is over.
because perfection lies even in the end.
More of my poetry!