I am

the end of the world, falling from the edge of a cliff.

The captain of a sinking ship

I am

Woeful cynicism

Smitten
of your ghosts and visions

I am

A prisoner of the flesh, in the fishing nets of contempt

I am

Consumed by the lust of distrusting *****, giving two ***** against their word

I am

The blur, in the rear view
when nothing is near you
but a hisssss
from the silence
of the radio hating you

I am

******

But reserved and undeserving

Shaking my fist

Scurrying for scalpels in the subtle tactics of arachnids

Slicing the webbing  upon the antics of the tragically romantic

Heavy static

Attracts the stasis of all the places, loathingly desired in the wish for death

Always admired the tried and true, even desired to fly the coup and maybe **** a flock or two, as i too, could be you with my blood on the floor

Loved and adored only after ever more, in the after life of a burned out light

I Mock

The empathic stalking of my superiors in their inferior fandangos of foolish angles, strangling the dangled meat made from the proteges of kings

Meandering the wingless cities in piecful paradise

Locked

In the blaspheme of loose rings from the corpses of dope fiends

I am

Not