There’s a numbness in my body like a dead leg,

It comes from my heart and messes with my head.

I try to feel the real me,

Through harm and through pleasure.

I’ve been hurt so many times,

I just stand in bad weather.

The scratches feel like kisses.

My body a temple,

Of doom.

With only devils who enter,

I dust away the grooms.

No suitable matches,

In this chapel that looms,

An eirie cry of lonely tunes.

I turn away from help,

My cries just go straight to hell,

Nobody bothers with the lies they tell,

Otherwise they risk falling under my spell.

Podden och tillhörande omslagsbild på den här sidan tillhör Poetry by Jessica Quill . Innehållet i podden är skapat av Poetry by Jessica Quill och inte av, eller tillsammans med, Poddtoppen.