Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god


Gems I ruled while he
Caressed my neck with
Vile words meant to tantalize
And rule; I found them nefarious.

A pitchfork to my halo, he
Had diamond ideas that I
Melted away with my heated glares.

GEms of such polished truth
Were useless to me; I preferred
Rough, uncut stones in original form.

I once danced in his niceties
But now, I play the wet dog
And shake off his vernacular
Like rain water on a cold day.

I'm no fool but I play one well,
And I play the role good till I
Believe myself stupid.

But I charge head on into
The chaos that he created
Within me and I kill the
Love, a demon seed he
Planted when he lied about caring.


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