Broken
 

Disgusting.

Convinced of nothing but reality,
assured the safety of the wretched mind.
Serenity in obscenity.
Yet another trashy angel in fishnets.

How much just to talk?

Grotesque is the mind
convinced of his mutable morality.
Judge the hideous creatures oh so similar to one.
Assassinate the whore in me.
The corrupt and the venal.

Stand clutching the filthy puppet whore.
Shut her mouth and bind her arms.
Definitely desensitized by the denial of death.

Stand in the corner, my angled cocoon,
raging against the hate.
Strong against its’ zealous embrace,
like stone fingers across your back.
Tearing skin.
Thrashing muscle.
Ignoring the pain to make it disappear.

Pretend it was not you who just
defiled the sobbing mound of flesh
on the floor before you.

Pretend it was not you who just
offended the saintly inner self.

How befitting a monster to answer such demons
and revel in such a hideous massacre of
identity.

If she was not broken before
she surely is now.
Broken as you.

'Definitely desensitized by the denial of death.'
I like the alliteration here.

'Serenity in obscenity.'
And this couplet is a nice touch.

that reminds me of the feeling I've gotten before when I've relished in sin as if a demon poked its claws into me relishing the evil thoughts and events whilst I sit without noticing

You write as though your feelings are flowing onto the paper...and into me.... Good stuff, thanks