It's 3:51 a.m. again and i haven't slept in weeks;

Darkened eyes for a taste of god, an ailment, and a leash.

Those precious things that were cornerstones of a precious simple life

Are now precious victims of a 'self' driven dream outlined in shades of christ.

My strength was long invested in an angel with one wish:

To hold my hand until she died, forever sipping bliss.

And now my stregth is a viscous sword that strikes the ones i love

And they wait to be further demolished cause solace is lodged in those i touch.

Such fulfillment resembles a vomit soaked sanctuary - killing a new spot inside me;

Depression replaced with a new persecution - of victim and culprit i guide me.

Of victim and culprit i guide me!

There's a psychotic demon inside me...

There's a sensitive loving retractable heart - if i give you my wound, will you hide me?

If i bleed you a trail will you find me?

When i put you through hell and then ask for your empathy: eat your contempt for me.

Knowing my penance occurs as i write through this sin with a relentless vengence

Letting you know that my life is a fantasy suitable for the fetish of a bleeding demon begging for god's forgiveness.

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