Madness runs rampant within me.
This insane itch in a spot no fingernails can reach.
And so they search outside of this body.
A broken finger points to a black slime where a heart should have been.
And the flex of one finger means more than an open wave of all five.
Back bones crack like the falling of a red wood when my spine rights itself,
The final crack trumpets the raising of my head.
Lips stretch taut until they break the adhesive formed by crusty, dried saliva
Saliva that hasn't been used since the rage of being born into existing as a mistake.
From this cavernous gape comes a thunder that induces guilt sweat from guilty pores
from guilty bodies.
A wail roared at a frequency that makes their little skeletons shake so violently they fall
conquered in a psychotic heap.
Hot tears dissolve the rocky deposits of their predecessors from the corners of swollen
eyes that dare to open.
These are the eyes that now stare with water vision down upon the accused masses of
maggots born of mold.
What say you slayers of innocence?
What motive, what hunger drives these hands to slaughter?
This last act of sacrifice, I give unto you the apologetic excuses that have polluted
this throbbing brain.
I spit them onto your lips. They are much more suited there.
Parasites of trust have killed their host heart for the lacking of their own.
And now,
Now witness these feet.
These feet stand, they walk, they leap
And under their boot soles you'll find a black slime throbbing, throbbing, throbbing.
The embodiment of revenge.
It is with this that I stand, walk, and leap through the rest of my trespass on earth,
Not as an unkempt house but as an indomitable fire.
|
|
