American Chaotic Astraphobic
Another attack!
Have you ever felt tangled up in your own limbs?
There really is no winning when you're fighting with the wind.
Restless, distraught. On my disposition, demon's creep.
If I am to die, these antihistamines will help me sleep.
This conflagration won't stop its wild burning.
Vision blurring, I feel the earth has stopped its turning.
A part of myself, my mind has suddenly stopped discerning.
A hurricane inside of me has left the sea stirring.
Here's a little taste of my reality.
I have found of late, I'm growing so sick of my mortality.
Anxiety eating again at my insides like insects.
An understanding so hard to grasp, indescribable, my distress.
If I could set fire to my every emotion,
To awaken and never feel another thing.
Another attack!
Watch it burn!
Spoken:
"I watched as the wretched waste became dust in the flame.
A rapturous tremble overcame my body as my sickness was satisfied; my aversion cured.
Skin bubbled from their bodies, muscle melted away, bones marred.
Buildings crumbled, becoming charcoal and ash.
A smell filled the air; the scent of burning flesh and wood.
I inhaled deeply. A smile stretched across my face, and the town was no more.
There was no one left but me, standing in the midst of clearing smoke.
I pissed on the remains."
