Friday, April 24, 2009

When you are gone

I pray for the day that you shall die
When in my heart, you are nothing more than a fading memory.
I pray for the day I shall smell your rotting corpse
in the earth that is me,
When the worms shall devour you and make me fertile.....
There shall be no dirge,
No church bells re-echoing pain.....
No ceremony,
No casket carried out,
No wreaths laid at your grave...
The children shall play in street corners,
Running away from the incessantly nagging mothers.
The men shall drink overly much and throw drunken tantrums
And I shall cry,
Happy happy tears
As I take a piss on your decaying carcass

5 comments:

islander said...

i can almost taste the smouldering hatred.

Princess said...

Holy crap! Texting thee, right now...

sleek said...

venom...

the antipop said...

I read this on friday and though "this is just me tired and shit. I couldn't possibly be reading this" Now i have no excuses it is for real. You are sick! But for all its morbidity, It is a thing of beauty. Very creative. Find love will you?

[B2B] said...

You have "skillz" DD...
Mad Skillz...