By MORGAN and ZYKLON
I dreamed of waking in your skin.
Like flicking a switch . . .
. . . blade
That reads, in poetic irony,
“All gods die and go to heaven.”
When you’re bleeding out,
“Gods” and “dogs” are equals.
Just like you and I are one.
You knew, as each exhale
Stabbed sharp as carbon steel
No one like you,
Who spent so many years in hell,
Would make it through the night—
Let alone through those golden gates
At the end of all pain.
The closest you’d get to heaven
Was drinking the cosmic acid rain.
What do you think about when you look at the stars?
Regret, revenge, or red devil Xanax bars?
You took me from the dark side of the moon,
To the blazing eye of the sun.
I awoke the next morning
Staring down a loaded gun.