• There’s more misery in your walk than most
    So tell me what’s left when you’re engorged with the Host
    I was supposed to ask you…
    I remember that much
    Those crystals in your fingers must hurt a ton
    Why not shatter them all and be done?
    How rude of me.
    I never meant to stare
    You change so much for people who look like God
    Their tonsils are like grenades against your façade
    I don’t intend to sound judgmental
    I’m just trying to understand why I’m here
    I can’t tell if I’m meant to repair you, you see,
    Or if your destruction is why you summoned me
    This would be so much easier if you’d just talk
    How am I supposed to know what’s right?
    The cracks already on your surface mock memory
    And your mouth tastes like tangled allegory
    It’s clear you’ve mixed too many metaphors
    Haven’t you been warned about that?
    It’s criminal, how you’re kept from the light
    Yet something behind your vacant stare suggests it may be right
    After all, I barely know you
    The signs did imply danger….
    Yes, now that I look closer, you must be a wicked beast
    Certainly you are without hope, at least
    Now you’re crying…
    Am I supposed to pity you?
    There is very little I can do besides
    I’ve never known where the Devil resides
    So I don’t know what I may cause
    You silence is a string of lies
    Your suffering, I’m sure now, is all contrived
    But it seems your lucky day’s arrived
    I may as well indulge you
    What business is it of mine to scold?
    So I’ll shatter you, I guess it’s for the best
    Your eyes look tired. Get some rest
    I won’t call you a prince
    You are wonted, but never wanted
    It will be my fault as well, I’m sure
    If your end is not, in fact, the cure
    Of course, it’s only an escape, really
    And everyone’s to blame but you
    Silence the voice inside my head
    I didn’t set out to leave you dead
    I only wanted to help
    Please believe me… redeem me
    This marks the end of my patience and your station
    Your suffering ends in tintinnabulation
    “Better to not exist” you finally whisper
    “Than be a burden. Or worse, a liar.”
    Your parting poetry only serves to confound
    A puzzle made of sharp, shimmering sound
    Why are you talking now?
    This must be Hell, then.
    “I have waited for years for you to grow
    And finally, you’re allowed to know…”
    Am I expected to listen?
    I never know what to do in here…
    “You made me in the lines you drew
    And fed me as your anger grew…”
    More senseless poetry
    When will you get to the point?
    “My greatest thanks to you who killed me
    Know that I am who you used to be.”
    What is that supposed to mean?
    Am I supposed to believe…
    But you did look familiar, after all
    Was it my reflection against the wall?
    I can’t bring myself to look down at the shards
    I’ll just count myself lucky it’s over