Our skin meshed,By our tendons underneath,We were so grateful,Until you needed more than we, One by heart,Three by the feet,Your elbows now tug against my cheeks,Trying to rip through the sheath,And make your run for the prince,Your passions flow through,The same veins as me,So I too want to be consumed,Spat on,And cracked open,Disengaged from the bowels,Torn off from your head to my toe, Empty plight,Of a carcass forlorn,It's our choices,That strand the lies,Off whom we smooch off the tears,To keep our blackened hearts,From oozing through,Cold tar from the eyes, Empty plight,Of a carcass forlorn,My incisors gnawing at the lesions,Insipid scabs down the thigh,Growing weary dragging your contorting cadaver,Only to be rejuvenated,Laying in the pool of phlegm and warm blood,Sipping on,Slurping off the bits that decay,My bruises can only twist into a smile,As I suckle on the cysts,While the knife seversThe last sinews of conjoined hatred, Misters before sisters.