Old wounds at the back of my neck
Bating craws, starving, want to taste you
This hurt—old, velvety, humid still,
very you
Must give it away, must give in
Loved you to spite you, now I charm
my feathered friends
Took me this long to finally know
there's rust in my blood, I do not
want to kill anymore of my only friends
Last act of shame—
Though what to do?
Cannot let their hunger kill them
Cannot die secondly
