I can't entirely express this feeling.
It's very oblique in itself.
Eloquent and introspective.
It bends me in ways I don't feel comfortable in front of you.

I needed to tell you.
A small gift to the reader.
So we made this series.
The ****** and the emotional.

Do I wait upon the summers eve.
When the light is spread out among the trees.
I can feel my other half encroach.
But that's not the point.

She swore to me fealty and love.
She's gone among the whispers of the wind.
I still hear her through the vine.
But that's not the point.

I have lost the ones I cared about.
I have purged those not worth caring about.
We are one without equal.
But that's not the point.

I am alone. Always have been.
Always will be.
Alone.
But that's not the point.

I am this way for now.
Broken, condemned, alienated
Unique, interesting, alive.
But that's not the point.

The point is to hurt you.
The point is to heal you.
I want you to feel.
My ignorant friend.

This is not a story I wanted to tel.
Never a feeling I wanted to share.
But to get through to you required this.
My heart bore in the words of poetry.

Because I am god in his glory.
I am a freak marking his territory.
No one more murderous as I.
There is no savior who wanted more to die.

End? There is no end. No conclusion for this cursed.
For this blessed
In his mind.
In his heart.
Without love.
Without fear.
Please. Walk with me, I would like to imprint myself on you.
Would you let me walk on your road?
In your life?
Or am I just crumbling.
Together at last.
Bringing me down.
Momentarily at union.

Only for a moment, then disappear into the blackness.
The blackness that so many now inhabit.