Genesis Of The Daffodil

I have ripped apart my body
To show the world
In spite, in degradation
In calling out your name

These faces, bleak and tender
Shedding tears and fragile
The scent of failure
Seeps from my skin

And when I reach the end
My pockets filled with dust
I will speak, untethered
“These words won’t be worth
Their weight in gold”

Corrupt in solitude
This monolith in darkness
I am enslaved to
This statue buried at sea
We ache for pleasures
Over discipline, over virtue
Over purity, over decency