Blood For Blood pt.2

I will pay the price.
I am not afraid.
But I spit upon your self righteousness
and all the principles by which you live.
Though you can mask this with your position
and lie to the flock of society:
we both are guilty of the very same.
So try as you might, you cannot fix me
– I will never conform to your beliefs.
Though I am cast down, I will not give in.
And although you hold this blade to my throat,
this is not the end.

From this fragile life I might say farewell,
but I will break your every bone in Hell.

Blood For Blood

Remorse will not exist
in a world without truth.
When degradation is restitution
and forgiveness is but ceremony:
the balance of justice is weighted.
No purpose is there
to be reconciled
when payment has already been exacted:
mercy was gladly given in triumph
to amends made by a defiant heart.
These empty words I gild
they fall on your deaf ears,
because morality was never a factor.
See these formalities are only that.
Nothing left to say.
Nothing to be learned.
This is blood for blood.

Roulette

It was one moment too late,
but that was all it would take.
When I saw my chance and took that gamble
I just ignored the odds of survival
– I already knew the stakes.

It was one moment too late,
but that was all it would take.
When you pressed your body tight against me,
I said, “Tonight forsake your sanity.
Let’s live before morning breaks.”

It was one moment too late
– our lips found each other.
Words that should have stayed unspoken
betrayed you to this twisted passion
– you loaded the revolver.

I thought I knew how this would end
when I pulled the fucking trigger.
Every lie that brought you closer
was a bullet in the chamber
– I kept spinning the cylinder.

I thought I knew how this would end
because this wasn’t my first game.
But the lust that burned in your eyes
– that willingness to cut all ties
– warned me that your score stood the same.

I should have known how this would end
because I knew what you had done.
You dug six feet and bid farewell
– one last muzzle flash broke the spell
– he’s buried with the smoking gun.

I should have known how this would end
when I pulled the fucking trigger.
But I lost count of all my lies
– we were both too drunk to realize
it was not an empty chamber.

(Written in September, 2017 // J.T., CA)