August 13, 2012

It's a wonderfully gloomy and rainy day, perfectly suiting my mood and perfect for sleeping but I can not. Today is the 15 year anniversary of the death of my father. My dad...What do I really do or say anymore? Last year on Father's Day I sat on the bed of his tombstone implanted flat into the ground and screamed at the sky, flailing and beating my fists into the ground wondering why this had to happen to him? To me? Why had he done what he did? I don't blame him though, I can't how could I?

You left your little girl here. I'm still here, I'm still your little girl and I haven't really grown up and I'll never grow up without you.

1 comment:

  1. Just sat on the grave for the very first time
    could not help but reason and rhyme

    she was as magic is to reality
    as fleeting as my world seems to be

    so reality is not but perception
    so i sizzle the flesh and boil the skin

    I remember nothing but the truth
    I remember it all but what is the use

    I dream of you dying I dream of your death
    I dream of you lying in your own bloodbath
    there's much more than hatred for you in my soul
    The darkness consumes and eats you up whole

    I think I'll begin with a scalpel in hand
    precise to the point what a wonder of man
    how this tool can make a filet of you
    that i will feed back to you in a stew

    just think of all the chemicals i can use
    much more inventive than a knife or noose
    we'll sizzle the skin and boil the flesh
    i'll only melt one eye so you can see all the rest

    now comes the destruction of all of your bones
    the splinterring shattering all yours to know
    you'll hurt more than this before the end
    so try to stay conscious as I swing again

    I dream of you dying I dream of your death
    It will not come swiftly you'll scream til the end
    There's much more than hatred for you in my soul
    A black hole than consumes and eats you up whole