Kamikabe Harbored Guilt
Reveling in misery. Your eyes torn out, does sight
remain? Shall I imitate your
shallow disgrace? Your pain is my warmest smile. It's
just a feeling, this
sensation that I get. Similar to the birth and growth
of black cobras in my
mouth. Where is the happiness you are to find inside
yourself? The salt will
not cease to pour into your unlidded eyes. A surgery
malicious, meticulous,
ripping you apart. Furious excavation. Don't tell me
you don't need this. As we
stand here, we can smell you rotting inside your
beautiful tomb. A blank dead
face stares at me. You have focused the whole of your
existence upon a single
thought. The depravity of our world. That we are all
plagued. Voluntarily
impaling yourself on a spike of well intended
nothingness. Your words are
beginning to rust into the guilt that rots inside us
all, revealing your
pointless speculations as a disguise. The ordure you
harbor inside your skull
has given nothing. Now this torment is only your
torment, and it's salt to me.
Finding poison in every flower and you wonder why they
wilt with your touch,
leaving your world empty until there is nothing left
for you. My index finger
is pointed directly at your pathetic heart. I'll be the
one to close your eyes.
I'll close your eyes when you die
