Scapegoat

A sickness is growing deep within me, tearing apart my inner core. Cancer that drives itself, holding back my ambition. Vile spills from my mouth, burning my skin. Gnawing at the back of my chest eating me from the inside.

I cry at night to ease the pain, fading away to nothing. I cower in the darkness bleeding upon the dirt. The tears they feel acid hot, as if to intensify the shame.

No one can hear me, not even if I wanted them to. There's solitude in distance. No one would ever look for me anyways. Why would they want to?

Is this remorse? Can I too feel pity? I thought I was above this.

I must be strong. There's no room for weakness. For I am God, and I am the devil. We are but one in the same. Erase this pain. Erase this pain. Erase this pain.

Apex

Last night I heard you cry out his name.

Who is he? Why do I care?

I don't love you, I just love your sex.

Every time I speak your name I feel nauseated. When was the last time I stared into your eyes? At least without crossing mine to blur that face that I despise.

You make me sick.

There's no redeeming qualities hiding under the shell of a whore that you are.

A whore, that's right. Are you surprised?

No, I don't think that you are. It's not the first time someone you loved called you that is it? Truthfully, you probably love it. Makes you wet when you hear it come from someones mouth doesn't it? I bet you lie awake at night fingering yourself and imagining someone whispering it in your ear.

Sex is really all you know, and all you've ever been good at isn't it?

Fucking and sucking to pass away your lonely and pathetic existence. You have no desire to break free from it either do you?

Why would you?

There's probably some sort of powertrip that you get bringing someone to cum. Building them up, keeping them there, making them want that crashing release.

How does it make you feel? Like God? A god of fuck? Is that your aspiration?

Tell me. Tell me what a whore you are. Look me in the god damn eyes. Slap my dick across your face and tell me. Spit on it. Make it messy. Beg me for my cock, you know you want to. I can see it in your eyes.

This is what you want isn't it?

Make me cum. Do it you bitch. I know you want it. Let me see it on your face. Jerk it. Come on, that's it. That's it you filthy fucking whore. Lick your lips, tell me how bad you want it. How good it tastes.

Fuck!

You did it again didn't you?

This is your mind fuck. God I hate you.

Why are you always there when I stare into this mirror?

Splintered

A nerve popped, my brain punctured. I felt something explode inside of me. There was blood spewing from my mouth. Every vein must have blew. I'd kill god, if he existed, for making so much pain.

You're such a dirty little whore. Who are you to make me feel this way? How did you work your way so far under my skin? Now I hide these scars behind fake smiles. Just so you can never see all the pain behind these eyes.

I use to believe we'd be together forever. That our love would be our savior. This world was our hell, and we were tearing it all away.

God damn I thought i knew you. God damn I thought I loved you. God damn I thought you were the one to take away my sins.

Now I feel insulted, and you're the one to blame. Feeling the need to end it, to blow this all away.

You were something I can't believe. You were a sickness eating me. You were cold and dead hearted.

Now I'm dark, something different.

Maybe I just died.

Decryption

Tasty morsels. So fresh, so filling. I clean the bones dry, devour even the fat. For i wish to not waste my beautiful delight. Mmmmmmm how sweet. Even better with the juices. I love the juices. When they flow, i sip them. Oh how i long for fresh juice. It is all that quenches my thirst. To feel it run past my lips, over my tongue and trickle down into my throat. This is my freedom.

Preface

Within one's own self, there is a drive. A motivation. Each single person's varies. Coming from many different factors. Influenced by life, our surroundings, our up bringing, the people we love, the people we hate. So many things effect our own personal out come.

Yet, can there be one single instance that causes everything? A catalytic event, turning every move we make into a single purpose. Intertwining every stitch together. Until, in the end, everything fits. A life surrounded by questions, never answered. Only to surprise us. Laughing in our faces.

Then is it possible, that all of these things are brought about by something that we've never known? Something that doesnt even exsist in our reality. But, in fact, was reality. And we couldn't realize it.

What would it take to open our eyes? To see a different reality. Looking through the mirror, then stepping through it. Without hesitation, even if the reality of reality was never true. A complete lie. Could we survive? Or would the truth be beyond what we could except?

What if?