I Am Not A Function Of Outer Circumstances But Of Inner Conditions (My Bright Darkness)

Finding a ray of light
Through the shards of broken glass
That are being used to line up
Your cheap cocaine soul.


The words stick to you
Like black paper doll decays,
Put back together in an abstract pattern.
Your nicotine-stained heart
Cannot beat without your formaldehyde blood.


My spleen will burst,
And I will erase you first
From my fluid-like excess thoughts,
Until my mind tells me
That I don't need you.
I will play my last tune for you,
My love,
And it will not end
Until I get my revenge.

Minds twist and turn under the ground;
The tap runs dry
And your veins run cold.
Hell freezes over.


A mathematical sphere
Between a scream and it's shadow
Can be found outside,
In a world where the sky waits to fall
And the surface splits,
Separating the claws of laughter
From the fingers that cry.
Those fingers have a tight grip on you,
And they will not let go.
They will protect you.
You belong in them.
You will burn in them.
The tears they cry will not put out your flames.
The tears they cry will not cleanse you.
You will remain as grey as the ashes
And as dark as the sun.
The light of the stars
Nor the reflection of the moon
Will create patterns in the sky.


And I will sit and wait for you
In my bright darkness.