Libertad of Lucifer’s Child

what do you feel

to feel something real,

when you feel like “you’re nothing?”

what do you say

to even yourself when you look at your face?

Do you see the same disgrace

distorted like I do?

What could you like

when all you "love" burns every moonlight?

in your eyes, just a product of your own indiscretions.

there will be no direction

out of this road you’ve paved,

filled with all my greatest hits & pains

& devastation.

Just another flame in this american hellfire,

the scent of rage on this liar

one that pains me when I pretend that love ever lingered (real love)

while you could never put a finger

on why you’d ever love someone like me.

so indistinguishably, but not ever me,

but only someone comfortable with your suffering

reflected back & multiplied by every shiny surface catching the light,

even “gullible” dark, brown eyes,

turned now into a knife.

Nothing but sharp edges & sides,

a “great” delusional, cruel liar.

Give me less when I ask for nothing,

Give me more when I pack up & leave

to my freedom.

Pray for me, prey upon me:

can you even tell the difference?

Psychotic, torturous, & senseless

sounds of a dozen different violence

or is it violins instead?

Somehow I seem to “forget”

when all I believe is you in my head.

What a devastatingly beautiful tale

the same ones that play again in ALL our heads

always the same whipper snapper,

whipped cracker (mother fucker).

now my fingers crack at anticipation for your homecoming,

your arrival to something you bring upon yourself.

striking like there’s an iron.

a sword beneath the rumble you’ve made,

dark & deep as warm, brown eyes.

Nothing but sharp edges & sides

an impeccable, beautiful, cruel “liar” now.

For what “good” is the truth

when it hurts like hell?

Fuck all the “nice” things,

Lest I have your suffering.