Cupid’s Arrow The air is trapped in my lungs stale within my lungs. Through the decompressed lung I breathe, nothing but blood Folds of my hear filled to frustration unable to distinguish the bills from bills. Stained with Red Water, brown recovery seems never to take a different future. Kill me I ask and save me from your moment to moment murder. Wherefore art the desire, Thou desire to end my protruding lung with a prick of your finger? Has it left you with the northen wind or with the kiss of her southern speaking lips? Or There it is, Right there, Right here, Right were you cant see it Hiding with my pain. The cry of that moss ridden mule halts your foot steps, and you run the other way when I swish my tail. Clip, clop goes the hooves of your heart clip clop, clip clop all to feel her buck. Her kicks and her rippling lips pulled back to show her gray eaten teeth. Hear her bray and you run away with no limp or no crawl. Why were you always on your hands and knees looking up to me with those eyes of tertiary when you could stand to your feet and beat me down flat, with your tongue upon your teeth? Ask Questions To my self From my self By my self Addressed to You...