Dear ex-Piece of my Existence,

No more hiding behind metaphors and beautiful words.

It is all here for you to consume and enjoy.

The despair and shame are cut into small pieces so that you may swallow them whole.

Be done with it.

Don’t look me in the eyes and feign empathy.

Who the fuck can do that with a warm heart?

Go ahead.

Whisper sweet reveries into his ear.

Give him your breath with parted lips.

The wind carries it back to me.

Every moan,

sigh,

syllable.

I doused them with insincerity.

They break apart into the sharp,

cold pieces they are made from.

I will not let you impale me with them.

No longer will I be the bio-degradable piece of meat you ravish,

ride,

and then hold in scorn.

You’ve become a memoir.

A notch on my bedpost.

This is as real as it gets baby.

Keep clear of my conscience baby.

You can’t deceive me with the slow moves of your once-perfect body.

You’re in a state of disrepair and we’re all so cold because of it.

Used,

abused,

adorned with the mockery spewed from your mouth.

Open wider,

we can’t see the lies from here.

I don’t need you anymore.

There is no room for you between the tick of my blood.

There was a time I’d do anything for you.

But I’m encased in a finale that began so sweetly.

I may be a bastard.

I may paint your image with crude colors and shredded brushes.

But no one will ever know the pain.

The disaster.

I’ll take that to the end of our reality.

Then I’ll light it afire.

Breath in the fragments.

Breath,

so I can watch the smoke escape from the holes in your heart.

Breath.

So you can remember what it feels like.

Because once I’m gone,

I’m purging the water out of your snow globe.

So I can watch you wither from afar.

despair

 

– 1985 A.D.

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