Telling Me

Her arms wrap around me
Receding light reminds me of the promise in tomorrow
Light red trickles from her face; I’ve beaten her silly in the pessimistic anger of my frail humanity
Somehow, she finds the will to embrace me in all of my filth
I hate that I’m like this
I hate that I love the chase in hunting the barely alive
Somehow it pleases me to know there’s something more conscious than I, and to feed upon it makes me powerful
Fuck. I’m acting cynical again, bloodthirsty really
These waves of calculating indiscretion come over me and I have no control
I see the dead fill the streets in my dreams, and my knives ran through them all
What am I telling you? What are they telling me?

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