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Gareth Apr 3
what a wonderful day to stroll down the corridor.
seeing all of these people again makes Me wonder why they're so different
today.
why do they look at Me like that?

why did they start running?

why am I wearing the mask that only I don in My dreams?

when did I get here?

why are the police here?

why am I covered in blood like in those dreams?

why do I smell like gunpowder and why do I have the gun I tried to hide from Myself?

have I finally done
It?

have My dreams finally come true?

they're dead.

all
of
them.

the rivers run down to my feet where my boots are coated. baby moses come floating through down to the holy land I have created.

I ended their pathetic existences and the thanks they give Me is staining My nice jacket with their putrid blood.
to look at me with their empty white and red eyes.

no open casket funerals.
I
made sure of it
mangled, mutilated maggot corpses
due to get incinerated and returned to the dust from whence they came.

how fitting that
I am the one who ended it
I the one who wanted to end it peacefully
has now ended it peacefully.

the crying girls and women bother My ears with their pleas to live.
I am the second coming.
I am the reckoning.
I am the judge.
how dare they invade My healthy mind and inner thoughts with their attempts
to guilt Me?
surely you'd know by now that I have no sympathy for the Devil.

so hand Me over now that they are here.
give Me My crown of thorns and pin Me to
My
cross.
because in the end,
because in the now,
I am the king.
I am the reckoning.
Gareth Jan 10
Why am I the way I am?

Could it be the result
Of being broken and fixed
Countless times
By love?

Could it be the result
Of the violent content
I exposed myself to?

Could it be the result
Of me
Not hugging my parents
In over 10 years?

Or could it be because of that night?

The one where i heard odd noises
Coming from the darkness nextdoor
That sounded like muffled screams
When my dog woke me up
Five times
Throughout the night
But
I wrote it off
And woke up the next morning
To blue and red lights
Flashing through my curtains
To hear what had happened
They tied him up
Used his own hammer
And bashed his skull in
Covered the room
In shades
Of burgundy, red, pink and white
A marvelous painting
Couldn't be seen in the dark.
They bit her finger off when
She
Didn't want to give them
Her
Ring
Waterfalls of blood
Silently rushing out
They left her for dead.

Going to school that day
Explaining to my teacher why
I was upset
She cried.

But why?
Why did I never cry about it?

— The End —