More poetry to go

I slumber asunder,
I fart apart,
I bark at the silence
Of a cute flying dart.

I dripped my gold on your face
And called you my mother.
You sold me at the marketplace
And fucked me up rather
Good.

Time stands still and laughs at my face,
Laughs at my laudable intentions.
I meant to bleed for my race,
I meant to get placed in detention.

My life shivers,
My bones are mostly intact,
The cold season glitters
Aesthetically. The pact.