The question lingers on the tip of my tongue, pink flesh squeezed tight with uncertainty. I'm bound, the thought echoes, lost and uncertain in the desert of my mind. And in many ways I am just as lost, a fallen warrior drying up in the heat of my anger. I was left long ago, watching with wary eyes as each back turned away; now the sandy footsteps lead gently all away, and my laughter, framed in wicked hatred, dries up to choke me. I refuse to be defeated again; I refuse to retreat. I am an extension of the justice I would have, and you cannot run behind your tired lies. See, I'm bigger now, stronger now, and I'll take you head on if you really want to fight. So trivial...I taste your fears, your desperation, spread across my lips like a cool caress. You want to tell them? You want to cup that hand around a whispered lie and blow it through your filters? I ask again, a child of yours; do you really want this? Because I am certain I will take you. You grew a fighter, a smash down blood bath of your wills kind of creature, and I promise you, my word, that I will strike you down with all the truth you never had the courage to face. You pathetic thing, crawling for scraps. You say the same thing about me now that you said about him seventeen years ago, but then again it feels like ages, and you have nothing new to spout. I promise you, I will destroy your precious pride; I will ravage piece by tiny piece that new confidence you flaunt. The plastic killer and the weaker taint. Hear me, I control you through your terror. Hear me you ugly little s***s, I am alive and whole. There was a time I crawled for your forgiveness, I begged for your good will, but I collected all my shattered parts; I, one by one, put it back together once again, and I choose to face my monsters. I will not cower before your puny god complex. I see above the poisoned haze you make. Fear me, run. I will take my vengeance, I will eat your attempts to harm me, and I will only grow bigger. There is nothing you can say, and there is nothing you can do. I'm not him; I'm not naive, I'm not laughing at your jokes. You can name me, label me...say it...I need help, I'm a liar, I'm a savage, black magic witch and schizophrenic. I grasp it all, squeeze your delusions, sad attempts until they squeeze between my fingers like limp maggots, and I will shove it so far down your fat holes you'll prey for salvation from the love you never had. You are incapable, the both of you. You need new words...psychotic evil f***s...that's you. You had better move, had better hope I never find you, never smell your putrid stink nor hear your stupid stutter. If I do you should know to run. I'll take you down, I'll shred your skin like so much bloodless paper, and in the end I'll take the beating thing you call your heart. I'm a warrior now, look me in the eyes as I rip it from your ribs...thruuuuump...thruuuuump...thruuuuump...it's getting slower, time is coming closer. I'll kill you both like you killed him too, and I sure won't bat an eye. So go ahead, your useless...go ahead and try.
Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Read Request
My Library
Subscribe
Flag Writing
