As if it were in my head
I stayed up watching the lights, knowing it was my fault. Stars glowing frantically like I've sought for sinners. Lightning screaming louder than silenced singers. Slaughter after slaughter daughters begin to open gates full of disgusting rotting fruits. Fighters with their knives ready to cut through their eyes. No one is really ready to be ready, it's so fucking complicated.
This poem is about:
Me
Our world