A Kiss For a Kingdom

I can never know the art
of loving you when
I keep molding all love
into art. I bleed
on these pages until
my pulse whimpers
and stops, until my heart
will kill for each little
breath it lost when
I spilled on your lap
this red ink.

I’ll keep writing, I’ll keep carving
in bitter fool’s blood.
It keeps me alive
in my desperate hunt
to haunt you, reminds me
of all I’m willing to give
to sculpt you into
what I need you to be,
to somehow create
my own divine control.

And it all starts again
(with this same paper and pen) —
I take the kiss that you give me
and weave our new kingdom,
I take all this self-loathing
and give it your name.