All is calm and the whole wide world seems to be asleep. Inside a storm is brewing. Clouds smash and combine into each other at gale force speed. Violent reputations meet concrete conclusions in a crimson spray of mortality and I’m so goddamn angry. The sun rises on the day your eyes never could again and I’m so fucking angry. Polish the fist of justice for it’s clearly rusted over and I just don’t want to be angry anymore.
I’m so connected to your ghost now that it haunts me every night in my dreams. The story always plays out the way I never wanted and I feel the restlessness form a lump in my chest. The time trickles on and no one will heed my words. No one is listening and I’m not sure you’re going to make it. Like a shadow formed of dark thoughts and fear, he always comes to claim you. I stand beside him and watch your blood pool. I stand beside him and watch your eyes fade beyond seeing. I grab him and throw him to the ground and the last thing I see before I violently awaken is his weak face give way before my bloody knuckles.
I’m breaking under the weight of this anger and I can feel it excruciatingly taking place. I can’t seem to misplace it or discard it from my thought processes and the isolation is becoming comfortable. I never wanted to believe that I was alone in this. I only ever wanted to believe. So two years later and I’m only now beginning to see through the shock and hatred enough to clearly see this demon.