westid

i’m not just talking love
this would be the start of a religion
omnipotent you, goddess amongst us
if we were made in god’s image, that would explain me
i don’t tell people i’ll pray to him, but she would get a psalm or two
there’s no one who annoys me more than you
that is what’s making me strong, plus
even more than that i am
because of you more of a man
i don’t get to see myself change
but i look in your eyes and it’s so strange
the butterflies in you, rage with such fire
whatever, so i’m not someone you really admire
although to be honest, you don’t have to be
to become the most amazing thing that i see
even though you never give me the chance to find out
if you were the one unto whom i poured my heart
unfortunately, because i’m constantly denied, deliberately kept without
i’m finished before i can even start
it’s pretty impressive the way you know things about me
while i’m condemned from the beginning, somehow naturally

“what are you doing here?” _{did you miss me} “like a twelve gauge hole through my chest.” ^{that’s a good start}

something throws me backwards onto the wall. “No, please, what is happening?” i can feel all these ghostly hands wrapping around and up and down. ^{you don’t like what i’m doing?} “No, stop!” _{alright then if that’s what you want …} “oh god no, no it’s too late for me now !” every instinct for self preservation clasps slowly and freezing cold fingers around my neck. i could almost feel this voice evoke itself in a whispering blur before it began to speak the words it was too late for you a long time ago, and now ^{now this starts to become real} august is real for me, august is when it all really happens. this is april; when, as though the real war of the worlds, it sets off toward my world. our world. you _{couldn’t tell the people of this. they couldn’t tell you.} like we were both side by side reciting in prayer, we finish one another’s sentences. thought occurs to voice, voice to sound, a.. _{and sound to command back in mind.} they asked me if these ghosts could control my thoughts, they weren’t so much controlling me, as they were the thoughts in my mind themselves

like a radio or something, it went on in the background, smoldering in encroachment as i carry on oblivious, building up slowly and from the very foundations that can be shaken when it’s too late – but not crumble since this whisper of a beginning, the luxurious lifestyle living, but unforgetting – soul-less in wanting, attrition of taking, getting