Rattlesnake Blues, collab with Evan Sarov

Frail hands
searching.
For something
to cut
deep enough,
to bury the hate.

Hatred.
Burning within,
like a blow-torch to skin.
Trapt
by the guilt
and the failures,
of my past.

Rattlesnake
lullaby.
A psalm
written,
not in ink.
Nor even blood,
but carved
into my sternum,
and femur.

With this message
carved, into my chest.
Will you sing
the lullaby,
to ease my pain?
It's easy to sing..
For the lullaby
is carved, in my chest.
Sing to the
melody, of my
misery.

This rattlesnake
lullaby. For her ears
and mine,
a rush of blood.
And what you choose
for poison..
Is what you
feed,
to her.