In my eyes, an eye for another
Is fuel to the funeral pyre.
Yet my hands long to
Rip heart from chest;
The soul from the flesh,
And toss the rest on the fire.

Innocence, the least deserving
Victim. Cut, shot, burned alive.
Where is the real Heaven?
It sure as Hell hasn't pulled a
Trigger, or a blade
Across their lifelines, the
Little carriers of
The only actual holiness there is.

I have 132 child shaped
Holes in my heart.
How can I fill them with other than
Anger? Disbelief?

I don't care where you are from.
Your religion, philosophies.
There are no greater sins  
Than those against children.
No God, only demons and devils
Behind your hideous actions.
I want. To ****. You.
Does that make me 'no better'?

If so... I don't care.

The smallest coffins are
The heaviest.

May our shoulders hurt
For aeons.

Let's go to the mountain top
and scream
and scream
until the sorrow in our voices
is no more

I was so heartbroken over you until the plane took off and I felt the rush as we went down the runway and realized you had never made me feel even close to as good as I did in that moment.

As we climb the sky my spirit climbs with it higher and higher as my heart distances itself from yours. It is the first time in 2 weeks I have felt good about something. I'm just scared that this feeling will be as temporary as we were.