let me out please

fell into place
the 3rd note
in a cord
the knife
on the table
the drugs
in your pocket
the cross
around you neck

grew up
wanting
to be an apostle
hang out with
jesus and that whore
mary
got that story wrong

bucket number six
tension fucked up blue
hair and a voice that
could produce nausea and
ultimately stunning orchids
and hyacinth
which i would crush
with my awkward
paws and leash

your beautiful eyes
spin the wheel
get out of this one