Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Supernova Necromancer

Your hope is thick acid on my tongue,
It's grit and grime stuck between my teeth.

I choose razorblades over the sour feel
Of rational thinking.

I'd rather be a maniac sprawled out
In her own filthy blood than someone
Who constantly promises that tomorrow will be better.

Because that's bullsh(!)t.

I trade the illusions for sequined destruction.
The perfect ruin of anything always harbors beauty.

Smash the fetid mirror, it's reflections are lies!
I crush the reflective glass into dust and
Thrash around in the ash of my appearance.

There is nothing to salvage, who can save
A tortured, dingy black soul betrayed by
The very idea of love?

Sometimes, the voices horrify me,
Drain me of strength.
I listen and wish them away, yet I am addicted
To the spirits that rent space in my head.

They are monsters, but my oldest friends.

Together we obsess about the forever sleep
And how words as our weapons succeeded
Only in failing us.

Our passion, or destiny resides in Read more →sharpness.
I lick at the devious thoughts, they make me smile,
Knowing I can bring my world to its knees.

Everything is foreign.

Psychotic memories crusted with regret.
I disguise myself with happy and humor,
Ignore the dreaded whispers till I am a
Shadow all alone.

I am a fierce liar.
I am ravenous for truth.

3-12-12


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Supernova Necromancer

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