Romance
Coroner, take this blood,
all this vile redness.
Please, cut me slowly,
let me savour these wounds.
Coroner, examine my heart,
not its silent function.
I beg, destroy this brain,
let it not think again.
Coroner, deceive my kin,
let them think me dead.
Please, let me stay here,
living in this morgue.
Coroner, sew me tightly,
I hope for this to scar.
I pray, for beauty's sake,
that I'll stay this young.
Copyright © Saint Alphonse | Year Posted 2009
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