Fuck you for being the Master manipulator in the cruelest game of life or death.
You have a thirst for the vulnerable, the fragile and the emotionally damaged! ;- they seem to be some of your desired players.
You seek out those you know you can torment! one..by..one…
You silently creep and lurk in the shadows and you wait.
You wait for the souls that have been torn apart and stitched back together— souls’ that are never really stitched back to their original form.
The thread hangs from them, it won’t take much to unravel.
You envelop them in your cloak of darkness, filling their tattered inner most depths,
with false promises that offer both relief and clarity.
The pseudo control you offer makes it easier to steer toward that collapsed bridge,
that solitary yet inviting rope, that sharp blade, those tasty pills.
The bridge that has dangerous waters running fast and deep.
The rope that dangles, baiting them, hungry for release.
The blade that leaves slices of evidence & the pills that numb the agony.
It’s a ritual of emptiness and imprudence.
A viscous cycle you love to latch onto. One that hasn’t yet been broken.
And salvation seems so out of reach!
You grab them when they’re down,
you strip their rational, rape their logic, invade their privacy and you convince them that,
you’re the problem solver. You have no conscience and you disregard anything good,
making sure you crush any minute glimmer of hope, replacing it with
twisted visions and dreams of demise.
FUCK YOU, YOU’RE SELFISH & MISLEADING!!!
And.. .this game you play is tolling!
And, watching you inject lie after lie so effortlessly, sharing the blood of your infection, your disease— there’s no fucking vaccine.
I’d hate to imagine how corrupt you are when none of us can see…when none of us know..
When none of us can fight for those who think they’re standing alone!
When the ink had spilled, and so began our tears.
The words are from ones that have bled, and so began our hearts.
The fire within, ignited —not for warmth or comfort, and so began our rage.
A billion pieces shattered, and so began our puzzles.
The battle is ultimately between you & them…only..one…will…prevail --
We’ll meet again whether I like it or fucking not, Suicide.
Photo Credit: taekwondo_kate