Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god


The silence of a killer,
So stripped of sense.
I've wounded hearts by
Honesty and appeal, swooning
Over midnight ecstasy.
The beams of light
Possessing the room,
Lean down, kiss me awake
From drowning in dreams.
I snort it like a pound
Of instant happy, absorbed
In the malaise of the weird.
When I kill again, it'll
Be with tears and not some
Swift slit to the lifeline.
I mangled the eyes of lesser
Pupils, waiting to breathe
More impression into their
Blackened lungs. I threw them
All away, scared of what
Their auras would tell me.
I blind myself, with rage,
Because I am tired of seeing
It all unfold before me.
But I will bathe in the
Purple, let the rebirth consume me.


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