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What do I do now? I don't even want to think about it, think about
How my life is splitting apart at the seams and all of my panicked
Outcries are doing nothing to stop it.

Amazing, I think, that I've lasted as long as I have.
Maybe this is for the better?

I tell myself, but it tastes like a lie in my mouth.

If I cease to be Caligula, what do I have left
For myself. I am nothing, nothing!

Nobody truly understands that I am losing everything and am
Out of my mind with pain and fury. I can't stop
Thinking, why me? Why is it always me?

Can't I have good luck just one time? I'm not
Asking for much. I'm scared, no, terrified that my
Life is ending quicker than I ever anticipated. I wanted to die
Grandly, in a wild blaze of glory. Not with my whole life
Upturned, sinking slowly, suffering wildly,
Losing what I worked so hard to achieve,
And wishing I could go back and be great one more time.
Written by another para (who, obviously, goes by the name Caligula), in the future/ after I end his suffering and pack the daydream away to start over again
Caitlin Fisher Oct 2014
Baby boy in baby boots
Ruddy reddened caligae
On ruby crowned Caligula

He fills the shoes
Red shoes, blood shoes
Blood boots, blood red
(Too red) too well

Grow into your boots
Blood boots, blood shoes
Silk shoes, soft sheets

My sweetest son in soldier’s clothes
In army boots, with baby’s blood
In baby veins, in baby boots

My starlit son the demon king
In purple robes, stained amaranthine
Laurel crowned on merlot hair
On baby's head with baby's boots

My withered king, my sweetest son
In little boots with a baby's sword
Made Rome as red as his merlot hair
And amaranthine robes
And ruddy boots

— The End —