Demons like me

Demons like me sip beer
Whilst the dancing beauty flirts,
her midnight eyes gazing seductively,
through glasses made of iron.

Drinking the amber makes me stupid,
But I already was when I touched her hips,
that denied me my basic right,
turned my privilege of want,
into a fantasy of delusion,
Sorting through memories,
I forget life and women,
I only recall the danger of being afraid.

While the edge of the knife
So sharp,
So beautiful,
draws blood from my throat,
And I beg the dancing beauty,
The one who baptized me with castration,
To spell my name,
On a sheet of rock,
She spells it out,
And smiles and shrugs.

My torment is a game,
My lust means nothing,
The knife is just a tool to end it,
The thrust is quick and clean.


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