Trust Me

The disasters we perpetuate
on one another,
if added up,
would weigh down
the strongest of giants,
the most powerful of angels
and demons.

If you will not submit,
I will call truce.

I will meet with you
in the garden,
and I will offer up my hands,
and lift to you not surrender,
but offering.
I will tell you,
that if we cannot
conquer one another,
perhaps we were simply
meant to rule,
together.

And when you trust me,
that is when
I will slip the knife
between your ribs,
and walk upon
your still-warm flesh,
to take what I desire.

About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.