Member Poem

If I were a hunter
I would've—
But I'm not
So I can't.

But I'm a poet
A shaper of words
I wield them
Twin swords
As I rage into battle
Fighting for your love

When the war heats up
And my lungs heave
When blood trickles down
My bruised lip

I lift a hand
My eyes turn black
As I cast
“Love me, love me now
Or I die.”