Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

The Witch

A gem with a Jesus Christ
Face, plastered with
Courage and empty of solace,
Stumbles into my bare hands.
I play with the aimless object
Until rejected entirely
And pleading with gods for
Another useless distraction.
She came to me out of apathy,
And spurned within my
Soul, a thousand tired
Thunderstorms, each one
More pathetic than the last.
I begged for an immortal
Playmate so the threats
Of loneliness would die off.
I got malice and resentment.
I got a witch; a screaming
Banshee devoid of care,
Slowly scratching out my
Eyes with a fiery rage.
One step ago, I was whole;
Have fun with me,
Now that I'm marred.

6-30-10
 


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The Witch

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