The Suicide Sex

The suicide sex they say
We are - broken Chromosomes crying
Out to share your completeness,
A bleak kind of Equinox.

The Spring is here today, 
The yellow moon sets upon the
Gate of the cosmos,
Poised on fishes yet, while a 
solitary hawk waits for mice to
spring from cats' playful deathgrip.

I've known too long,that
A longer,  blacker March moon than
Most of my black March moons, 
This month was born,
  
Was born 
To plumb the spirit's depths,
 
And try to touch the heart of the World,
But I do not know if I can Join 
That dance again;
My own spirit is so soaked in this world's blood.

Let me back!  Let me back!  My innocence
Once was mine;  my heart was once
Little touched by pain;
My life once was mine.

Reality is falling down all around me,
All my hard fought ideals don't seem
to mean shit; all these people stuck 
in their survival thing, the ethic of this age.

Everyone seems only in the game for their own
greed, "Love's not what you see..."

Please stop the judging: black and white are only guides.
I know I'm crazy!  Give it a rest.  I'll dea1!
And I will love you, scars and all.
I'll kiss the marks on your face, and the wounds
That make your spirit cry,

As I know my road is bound
To only its own end.
.
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