He said ‘_You don’t care_’
He couldn’t be more right.
So if nightmares come with sleep,
I’ve been unconcious since birth.
Dead Blue iris’ painted on my eyelids.
In all their inanimation.
This abortion is decades too late.
Holding the murder weapon capriciously,
I see your childish expression,
Sing no mercy for me,
On an angel’s broken wings.
He’ll be the first to go,
Last to make it out alive.
Kicking a man while he’s down.
He’s more than 6 feet under.
Serendipty at it’s finest,
As I crawl out from under the carnage.
Sat infront of explicit decapitation,
Like some form of moralistic necrophile.
These tears I refuse to cry,
Evaporate and salt my eyes.