Icarus

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she looks at me again

with those dismal and pleading eyes, gorged with fear

her fingers shakily reaching

scratching

pawing

staggering

to grasp the teat of life

to relish and drown in spartan-white pap that dribbles down it


she looks at me again

with those reluctant and narrowed eyes, seething with unprecedented scorn

her fingers cunningly crawling

lurching

curling

skulking

to claw at my neck

to relish and drown in the carmine hues that will burst forth from my aorta


she wants

she lusts

she desires

to succumb to the numbing pleasure of complete and utter hubris

the cornucopia of madness and insanity incarnate


she is the retold tale of icarus

one whose predestined demise at the hands of her own callousness

her own devilish naivete

would cause her to plummet from the heavens that she once called her home

would cause her to lose her immortality, her divine shield of egocentrism

would cause her to become fueled by spite, wrath, ire

would cause her to forget the pain that came with pain

would cause her to realize that her own pride

is to incite someone else's prejudice


she knows

how much pleasure can come from the dull throb of pain

the aching agony that gets fat off consuming someone's sanity

the tumultuous torment that rapidly devours someone's purity


she knows

her heart

drenched in an irremovable black stain of sin

will never once again

feel

beat

comprehend

sympathize

empathize


for she knows

and will forever know

sick pleasure

and

sicker pain

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