Delirious: I’m over it.

My Poetry

I’m bathing in irony
Oh, I see the crossroads lure you into the depths of unspoken misery

Sickness pollutes with disdainful disgrace
Playing the victim are we?

Incredulous how madness and fever gets underneath your skin
and eats your flesh from the inside out

Yes hate me as hatred fuels delirious neediness and regretful intensity
For many delirious words of art have escaped the keyboard from my pent up ingenuinity
Many of rage, many of melancholy, many the remains of a dreadful black plague
But none relate to your insanity

My fractured identity and broken reflection
I dream things that every human dreams in the basements of their depravity

Yes, of my Tokyo Ghoul I write, who lingers in my self-despise
Of my closely provoked temptations and morbid imaginations

You’ve got nothing on me
I remember a dream my sister told you to fuck off because I clearly don’t care;
You did and it was unrequited bliss.

Let this be the last time these thoughts flicker across the mutated hilarity of my progression
As it is the first in months on end
You’re an incredibly dreary and uninteresting memory
A muddied diverted non-destiny

Goddess, idiocy runs through our reptilian human primacy
And my bones scream MURDER, my blood mongers SUICIDE
Fucking die already
I buried my past peacefully in the thickly clay
Lost in the darkened muddy brown and grey
In the grave of forgotten massacre and martyrdom
Where it will never be rewritten
Because the dead do not rise a second time

There are plenty corpses disregarded, abandoned and disintegrating endlessly
Go to the priest and beg his forgiveness instead;
I have no sympathy or fancy to spare

I am not all butterflies and daisies
I denied my lunacy too long
this is the ultimate fuck you
Because I don’t actually give a shit.

Indifference becomes me
Stop beguiling yourself the resentment is mine.
Go find another lost soul to project your foolish paradise onto.
I don’t give a fuck.

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