Incomplete

This body is incomplete.

It is tainted,

and I cannot hold the blood that drips.

I need room to sway.

There is drink,

but the thirst cannot be quenched.

So it repeats,

into me,

tearing apart the fragments 

that were to be.

The drums continue to beat.

There is nothing subtle,

There is nothing sweet. 

Yet, you fall at its feet.

Desiring it, craving it.

You’re a slave to power;

 you carved it in your name,

and wrote it on my fate. 

And I was desperately seeking;

My heart stopped caring

The blood, violently flowed to my mind,

erasing the stains you left behind.

I ran in circles,

seeking the black mess.

Drowning in the process.

I caught the tail; gave up the fight.

Breathed in the water, forgot the sight.

This body, it is tainted and incomplete.

This body, it does not exist.