to hell with you
your tarsoaked innuendo
visceral leanings
with indecent scripture
covered in the grime
of too many
back alley dealings
in the form
of hypodermic wherewithal
burn in hell
with all the other
quasi-humanoid fiends
that suckle on the teat
of tomorrow
while ravaging
the days gone
in a pathetic gasp
at commonality
with non cold blooded types
take your dreamwicker
your scaled flesh
the oily sheen
upon an upper lip
ill suited for anything more
than resting on the anus
of your betters
straight to the depths
of whatever hell
you were born to
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
Soooo powerful. I love this and hope it was therapeutic for you
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it jostled a few thing loose. Thank you.
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uuuhhh wow… I’m very curious
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about?
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About the object of hell. Real or contrived. It’s fascinating ‘who’ would spawn such an awesome (and dark) poem.
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i hate to ruin it, but no one in particular. it just kind of poured out. i guess we all know someone that fits the description. before bed i try and write at least two poems and have zero control over content. just open myself to be a conduit.
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Yes. I assumed it wasn’t about anyone in particular for you the writer. I just meant that the poem makes me curious about the person. Hard to explain, I guess.
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I will never want to be on your wrong side 😳
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hahahaha
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