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.
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Thanks for being a muse.
Just sat on the grave for the very first time
ReplyDeletecould 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
-XIX