Phillic

The bullet hole looks so right in your
head like it'd been missing all along
the blood streaked across your face like
some twisted lover's deformed

lipstick trace staring at your reflection
 wondering how you're still alive

wondering if she's somewhere laughing
deciding whether to let you die

fucking corpse in grave
necrophilic

The bullet hole looks so right in your
head like it'd been missing all along
the blood streaked across your face like