“The used hole”
Holy mother of
A small kid,
With some ugly guy,
The husband or
My will to not be
Me for a day
Or two.
Return to your
Darkness,
Warm, old scar
Of myself,
The world all
Around and my
Eyes full of
Your
White pants
While beer is
Making the sun
Warmer than my
Possibility of dreams
Inside of you,
My small reason,
The hole, the emptiness
The world searches
To keep the abyss
Alive and falling
Souls as you
Walk away to
Eternity.
B.
Savonlinna
