Write Week 8

[Pakistani Hand Cannon]

...
blackest night....blood...sacrifice...pacified? paralyzed -
numb. young....acolytes...one...anti-christ. bad advice;
'go against God' the darkness decrees; the darkness is me.
but don't mark me a beast. must i, beg pardon to garner relief?
only eat the unconscious who constantly sleep, hearken to sheep.
all the, - depravity, abandonment & hurt, the avarice,
externally validated worth, animalistic urges; the thirst;
sadomasochistic; slaves to anatomy, adamantly search
to shirk their inadequacies - s'just the baphomet at work?
call me a scapegoat. cornered in this corner of space, loathed,
tolerance for pain grows the further im fallin, from grace, slow
clawing at faith, hope? pleading pleeaase don't dawn on me fate -
oh - if only i could trade these horns for a halo,...
maybe...maybe, you'd call me an angel....maybe -
you raised heaven too high a place i can never live up to,
hell hath enough room, im just, tired uh the lust, trust, the devil needs love too.
...








maaaaaan fuck you & these dusty ass write weeks geno