i am done
with everyone
i know
and the man
in the mirror
can finally die
when i slit his throat
slow
and beads of blood
trickle
before the flood
flows
i greet

rising
crashing
this
warm fuzzy feeling
in my stomach
creeping across me
falling peacefully
in and out
pieces of me
coming out
clinging
just to slip through
i want to shout
but i have no mouth
and prayer
doesn't work
i'm not devout
so i go on
wondering about
free of doubt
free of it all
casting a shadow
as my character