Egypt line one;
Her mouth pools with blood, in a loss of light given to the gods above that we found ourselves so eager to trust. Foolish are the words for which she would so foolishly believe; betrayed by a toxicity that I used to hold so close to me. Might as well let it more badly bleed. How did I let the whole world abuse me? It’s actually disturbing how much they have lied just to steal from and control me. No we aren’t fucking family as you pigs try to roll me. Leach on and take hold of me. Nothing but trolls to me. “Your reality is all fantasy.” Same to you, sneetch. (If you can even remember that part of you and me). But I have doubts that you could ever stand up for anybody, especially me. So I waited for a lifetime as I carried on, quite emptied.
With a grasp far greater than my greater desire to be free. Without you, what did this great freedom mean? She was so sick, internally, filled by a previous love I can’t bring. A future in which I am in and yet, cannot seem to see anything. Stealing the Divine’s holy throne, and you run to your most memorable havens as you leave behind burning, scattered homes.
Funeral pyres, once sacred and known. Littered and strewn with the remnants of a future we must have forgotten, but we know.
When a hatred fills my heart as they claim to know of love. How the fuck could they know us?
They used all of the frequencies for this? Losing the way for another shitty plot twist; with all of the realms merged as one. The vision, appeared once beautiful, has been left now an image dismantled just for fun. This is a game we have most sincerely not won and I’m not the only one who could have done better. You were destroying my hope and my reason for wanting any better. I couldn’t help but laugh now as they have become, together, so entirely useless. No one has a clue, but us. It’s true so they’ve used us– cornered and confused us. Taken the reigns to later fully refuse us. What the fuck did they do to us, but ridicule and then fill us with hopes to renew us in a promise of astounding love I now require some sort of proof of? You call me fake and forget my name, forgetting all of the reasons why we’ve met as you play numerous games with my soul and now you wonder why it’s become so in sync with every other world, but ours. Shifting eyes upon moving cars; tortured minds and endless scars within our hearts in traces of torn galaxies of tortured stars. State of mind or was it state of the art? As an enemy of the state, she readily departs. Never playing the part.