Claw

These emotions are illusions; 
an opaque mask. 
Giving head on my sick-bed, 
now the phlegm's passed. 
Sensitive, your legs quiver, 
and pupils dilate. 
Rend your claws across my jaw 
for that absolves hate. 

Claw - vainly at the strings of reality. 
Tear - without regret or mercy. 

Your poem is a profound 
waste on me. 
I couldn't take your treasures 
if you'd cut me a key. 
If I could read the knowledge 
right off your skull, 
I'd still be fucked and worthless, 
I'd still be null. 

Claw - vainly at the strings of reality. 
Tear - without regret or mercy.