your turn

my turn
to make you squirm
my turn
to make you wonder
when I steal that kiss from you
I hope you'll
fall
fall
fall
-hard-
and lose your mind
the way you made me
crazy for you


(The bastard
thinks himself a Modern Prometheus!
making off
with Fire that's mine
because he wants
to be a fucking hero
and left me
cold--
naked
descending
from my Mountain of Desolation
with lips apart
like some kind of
fucking choir-boy
an angel, a Messiah
running a marathon
to save a world
that's already
burning in their shrieking hells)

my turn
to make you writhe
my turn, baby
to make you weak
when I walk away, with every strand of my hair
in place (no casualties)
I hope you'll
run. run. run.
-to me-

and reach for me
the way I reached out to you
and snatched at nothing

(
oh, by the way
I'm suffering
for you
)

Condemned.

02.23.03 - 5:43 p.m.