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Death Is Perched Atop My Ear
Death is perched atop my ear
Tonguing his dulcet song--
Lulling my mind to hell,
Numbing my heart to life's heat.

And what pure joy, heedless bliss,
To dash against the rocks concern
Regret and responsibility;
To watch them scream and bleed.

And I say it is a burden to love,
For to love is to leave behind;
And those left behind
Are but a damned curse to peace of mind.
They stay the willing hand;
They sheathe the sweating blade.

And I ache for nothing more
Than to spill my bowels in the gutter,
To bleed, to be trampled and bruised,
Spat upon by the abused.
The poor, the lame, the mad--
To share a bowl of death with these,
My true family. My soul at ease.