ChrisPace

Sick Beauty

Candlelight brings thoughts of past sins and future acts of the deceased. As single thread tied
around my finger reminding me of the bondage that waits in reality. A shooting star is nothing
more than a curse and catastropy, no wish made upon it will be granted. Licking up the puss drenched floors, gawking at my wrongdoings. A corpse pathway leads to my portal, my hiding spot where no nightmare dares to follow. Blood flows like wine and orgies of incest dreamt of with disgusting lyrics playing like elevator music. No more of the mind-draining television or the subliminal messages on the radio that mocks me always. I once read a newspaper, it was a lovely blood-lust filled with perversion and murderous filth. Giving just the fix to send ones mood into a homicidal rage. A thin line stands between evil and insanity, yet insanity and genius are even closer.

You call me mad; who are you and why do you speak a tongue of phrases that insult weak minds! You asshole; be my victim and I shall show you no wrong, no mercy in this crazed temper of mine!

Now, you hear the sweet music of infants screaming while pleading insanity, and blades tearing across innocent flesh. As the puff of smoke fades away into the crisp air, you are already dead. Cut off from the superficial life-style you once knew. I love you too much to just let you die. As I taunt your god with necrophilia and torturous cultist acts of pain inflicted on the steps of his sanctuary, I welcome a new day of released hatred and hurt. Bring forth a new friend to feel my emotional uproar and another method to express my artistic gratitude. Enjoying body sculpture with broken limbs and decaying flesh accompanied by bone; this is a masterpiece.

Who are you to point a finger; who are you to call me vile! You hypocritical fucker!

Reaching the bottom of the ocean just to get my hands wet. I ponder over the numbness of my soul, for I haven't felt emotions in years. My mind mocks society by corrupting my inner thoughts. With what little strength I maintain, I can hold back, only rarely releasing the twisted ideas in my head. I hope you still love me, or perhaps you never loved me to begin with. I love you; love is such an easy word to say. I picket the funeral of Christians in the hope of succeeding, succeeding at nothing. It is harder than it seems, the portrait of abstinence is dirtier than you believe. I have nothing to fear but stronger minds, for a weak thought is harmless. Traveling the world in search of keepsakes, I require a partner. One who does not scream when I do, one who hurts when I don't. I need someone to share my passion for anger. Come meditate with me, and all our worries will fade away, along with the blood that has stained our arms. I miss the conversations about absolutely nothing that I previously had with myself. Once upon a time I went insane, such an experience that everyone should try.

Do you still believe this is a game? Why do I even attempt to change your perspective? You anger me, and this is why I can still stand the sight of you.

Swallow the pride that consumes your life. The sight of your insides turns me pale. Pale with the horror of your thoughts, the sick dreams that are taken out on people around you. With no clue as to the Pain you cause, you continue carrying out the words of inner demons. Possessed with the power of unlawful conduct, a standpoint of utter hatred. I hate you, you hate me, and how do you live with the infliction on others you bring forth? Desecration of the soul comes in many forms, atheism is confusing and hurt is a controllable impulse. I need the endurance to stand the wind, the wind of an eternity filled with my objective is clear, yet I am still obsessed with the paranoia that has accompanied my travels. Why do I sweat in the cold, why do I curse out loud, why doesn't anyone hear me? I can't take this anymore, unless I do, and I will, I shall go on living in the hell-on-earth I have created. My method of transferring memories into the present brings me to my knees in a nauseas perspective.

You are the devil, you poisonous bastard, with only your words I am brought to a crippling aggrevation. Fuck off, now, or forever hold your peace.

Empty promises and shattered dreams, another day in hellish paradise. From a distance with just a simple glance, I'm struck with the evil in your eyes. A seductive and pleasing appearance with a dark sickening inside that beckons to me to come closer, under her wing. She speaks of all the things I dream, but then crushes them before my empty eyes, and as this is done, I tear away at the seam. Screaming why this happens, and why I lay down and take it. My pools of shallow emotions fill with tears that descends and fall, burning through any kind of hope that ever lingered...in my sick, sadistic mind. An enclosed explosion unable to escape; instead, it just sits there, mocking me. It burns, eating away my insanity until all hope is lost and emotions are brought down to a level far surpassing depression.

Once again I hear myself argue over unspoken contemplations. What is wrong with me, have I no soul? Help a poor, lost boy. I need you beyond imagination, for my world is crumbling before my eyes...and all I see is beauty.

Posted 1/31/02