to the cute girl in my ethics class

There's a terrible irony to be found
in the knowledge that your gentle beauty
inspires in me wicked, decadent thoughts

I would whisper the very worst of my obscenities
savor the taste as they slide down my tongue
and into your tiny ear

I would bury my face between your legs
and stay there
for a week, or a month
or the rest of my life

I would expose you
to every single one of my deformities
both physical, and otherwise

I would take you with me to church
so that I can, with God as my witness
nail you to the cross and fuck you on it

I would kill, one by one
with guns or a knife
or my own sweaty hands
every other fucked-up retard in this room
so that I am the only fucked-up retard left to talk to

I'm sorry sorry sorry
Sorry for thinking this
sorry for writing it down
sorry that I want to wait until your head is turned and
slide this poem
into your book bag