Death to the four-named man

As “The Everlasting Gaze” pumps into my ears I push the pump of the needle hard and the brown hatred burns through my blood. The wondrous honey of the poppy plant of hatred and angst fills body and I am lost. A spiritual suicide. A new beginning, an old ending. It is completely dark as I am dreaming this ending. I rip my skin and tear the flesh. My eye begins to bleed a little. Am I taking this too far?

You know I’m not dead
Now you know where I’ve been
As you sleep
Torn I am
Weighted down
Patiently
Born of love
You know I’m not dead

But I am. I have ceased to be. I must create my death before the heroin of depression kicks in or I will not be able to move. A catatonic fright, no breathing no living, a death for a few hours. To be born again and to rebuild my soul, to rebuild my shell, my protection.

I’m just living in my head
Forever waiting
On the ways of your desire
You always find a way
And thru it all
Into us all you move
Forgotten touch
Forbidden thought
We can never have enough
You know I’m not dead

We sit in the car in which she has invited me. I see in her eyes what I have been projecting all night. She turns her head slightly and when she turns back I am there to kiss her gently. She lets out a blood-curdling scream and pushes me away.

Found below
The creatures scream
Stranglehold
A God machine
Begging to
Tear us out
Worn as hope
You know I’m not dead I’m just the tears inside your head
Forever waiting
On the ways of your desire
You always find a way
And thru it all into us all you move
Forgotten touch
Forbidden thought
We can never have enough
You know I’m not dead

As I start to leave she catches my arm and asks me to stay.
Now I must confess that I am confused.

We all want to hold in the everlasting gaze
Enchanted in the rapture of his sentimental sway
But underneath the wheels lie the skulls of every cog.
The fickle fascination of an everlasting god
You know I’m not dead

This is the perfect ending to a good day. I would not be me if I wasn’t thrashed by god at this juncture in my life. Too much good has happened and I am not allowed to be happy.
“We can’t….I want it to be perfect” that was the excuse. Her eyes told me differently and she peeled off leaving me standing there, my heart snagged by the veins flails behind the exhaust as I stumble defeated and tired and dead.

I’m just living in my head
Forever waiting
Forever waiting on cruel death
You know I’m not dead
I’m just living for myself
Forever waiting
You know I’m not dead

But you now know that I am dead. As dead as anyone could ever be, and my eyes are bleeding as the depression sets in. It won’t last, as any drug, the hatred I poured into myself will wear off and I will be changed by it. I will learn and I will live, but for now I must die an awful dark death here with the lights off and surrounded by the everlasting gaze of an everlasting god. I am his fickle fascination of an everlasting god, a mere cog now dead and broken.