"choose
one"
and I did;
I chose cyanide.
the rotting gallows.
the purposeful guillotine.
silent asphyxiation.
Damn the resistance.
Damn society.
Damn the crescent moon rising.
"fuck
it,"
I answered,
"I'd
rather
slowly
star-
-ving."
YOU ARE READING
Slip of the Tongue ~ A Collection of Poetry
Poetry"But I don't want comfort. I want poetry. I want danger. I want freedom. I want goodness. I want sin." ~Aldous Huxley
