Just another sip, crisp and like vinegar in taste
I’m so close. Numb me just a little bit more. Cause my body to hit the floor.
I want to feel closer to comatose. Lusting for death, the existence of a whore.
I should feel shame at the pain
At the desperation
At how little this makes me gain
But I can do nothing but beg for more, to gain that temporary satisfaction
Bring me closer to my grave
Numb my sense and make me forget my existence upon this plane, this organised mass of dirt
It is the reason for my demise, my clotted lungs and strain on my nape
My soul is tired of the demons that dance around me
who kick out my knees for fun, in a merry-go-round about me
A pain I feel even when hope shines gently out my eyes like twilight
I’m not truly able to escape its tide
All of my hope becomes undone – this is what makes my existence feel like ice.
Black wings descend upon me
I think it is death – finally some respite
But it is my Angel’s wings come to protect me.
He looks just like me – no caricature of whiteness. The bleakness of his wings showing me the depths of the turmoil I feel within. He cares for me.
He believes in me and all that I stand for and will not stand for weight of guilt to bury me
Even the demons I flaunt explicitly, he does not shy away from them but makes them worship me.