Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Stoned

Even stones lose their sheen.
Once the storms of yesterday pass,
They become worn and withered,
But the surface becomes smooth.

I want that
Smoothness
To wash over me.
I want to be able to
Drown
In it, to
Die
Face down in it.
I want it to break
My hymen and leave
Me in a
Pool of virginal blood.

I want it to rape me,
To force itself upon me
While I scream
"Oh god, why!?"
Into the invisible air.

I want it in me,
But I want it
Away from me.
I know I don't want it,
And that makes me want it even more.

One more cyst of desire
Won't make much difference.

December 4, 2007
Suge



Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Stoned

315,010 Poems Read