I will rip out every key to every door you think or ever thought that you had access to.

I will go down the line.

Slowly turning each lock,
As I whisper under breath,

"*******."

All is temporary
Through the sands of time.

Nature and the seasons.

Emotions and feelings.

Stories and history.

Who even am I
And what does it all matter
As it disappears in time?

I can't seem to fill
The endless, gnawing void in my stomach
That infinitely expands with age.

The black hole in my stomach
That keeps me from truly feeling home
With anyone, anywhere.

They say home is where the heart is,
And maybe mine got unknowingly
****** in too.

Everything consumed by the pit of loneliness.

I can't wait to shove hot knives down your throats after all the times you made me swallow hot truths that even my tongue didn't want to have to spew but you cowards could never.

So who will stand for justice if not me?

I won't apologize for my skewed ways
Of execution either,
Because its your fault im twisted baby,
Let's play five finger filet,
Whats wrong?
Don't you trust me?

I still am not entirely sure if free will or fate exists
or
if somehow in this chaoticly ordered universe that they overlap randomly in time.

Life is a **** deal.

No matter how great the cheap thrills, tricks, and food is,

It isn't worth its counterpart.

The pain isn't worth this chaos carnival ride

And the only ones who think it is

Are the clowns.