I am the Phantom Queen

My Poetry

Longing, listless, lifeless
Vital impetus drains itself out my fucking chest again
Covered in slime of sorrow and solicitous sickness
I crave the four thieving accomplices of oxymel ichor;
Necromantic maledictions which should not be performed with cadavers after gloom

These thoughts thunder through my proclivities
Assaulting my awareness with their raw ferocity
Twin blades, laceration, haemorrhage
I will make you bleed – sticky, mulled, carmine liquor
On my crusade to find puissance beneath your cum stained sheets

Thanateros the primeval farrago of fate
Choke it down, choke on it, as I thrust it down your fucking lungs
Sacrifice this penitentiary of your inception unto me, love
As I devastate your soul and amalgamate it within myself anew

Object, object, I object
Objection! Your dishonourable disgrace
Who is this me who objects agin objectivity?
Who is vehemently violated as a voracious vampire?
Iron spikes and fetters and poniards and stakes
Charge through this chamber, in the oubliette of our fucking minds
Grating bareback emotions within the delicate folds of our blistering carnality

I want to seize you, bewitch you, dominate your entirety
And I will take it, I will take what is mine with fire and blood, I will take you
And sear my name on your ravaged skin
Cruciatus and cauterise my frenzy within you
Until there is no you that remains
Only me, only mine.


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