Sitting, my hand on the glass, looking through to the family i was forced to throw away, to make way for selfish infatuation, gore splatter the crystal, and i cant help but smile, as clear as this barrier be, they fail to see, ignorant to my obliterating-lust, or are they, be a reality to painful to face may humanity turn a blind eye to incomphrensible suffering, perhaps aware but not willing to care, for i sit seperate to them, as this enternal sadness begins to brood, the elixir of my life escaping through countless death kisses, breathing in the retch of a partner i am bound to. Staring, fixated on the glass, smash my temple add to the patterns, not make a sound as they didnt look up from their daily activities. i feel, something coming, burning inside, a rage i have contained, pleasurable anger that tries to escape, heavy with an emotion, i now know as hatred. But to whom, to the family that laughs infront of me, that lives happily without my afflictions, to the demons that gnaw inside, believing it is aimed at me, the self to hate the self so far, to no longer recognise, who it is, exactly what i am looking at. A conflicting fury within, battling with myself but then possess the wrath against another, turned unto me. As time passes, with slow decay of time, my body soon follows, remaining infront of the glass, i wish to see nothing more, but compelled to gazed, closer to the reality, that forever is, behind the glass.
