FROM DEEP WITHIN MY BOWELS
I OFFER YOU WITH ROTTED BREATH
I EXTRACT AND RENDER AND CONFESS
THE RINGING TIN AND IRON HOWLS
THE WELDED CLATTER OF MY JOWLS

FROM DEEP WITHIN MY STOMACH
AS I TEAR THE LINING AND CHURN AND REND
(this heart of mine,
these things of mine,
these agonizing questions
I toil with)
AS MY EVERY FIBER TWISTS AND BENDS
I SPEW FOR YOU WITH STEEL AND SICK
WORDS AND COPPER AND CORROSIVE SPIT

And I wait, then, for your sunken eyes
To turn and look at the mess I've made
Smiling, ill and barely awake
I watch you open up and spill