When it was Finally Given to You

The fragrance is thick with contempt. A ritualistic life-cycle, which has led you astray. The soot of your soul, has embedded itself into you worst nightmare. Now you are living within it on a day to day basis. Cutting or slicing a vein is almost too easy for you. Your special blend of masochistic ideals, hopefully will bring you a more tedious way of departing this mortal (moral) coil. If only you could find a more difficult solution for your solution, how the night would shine upon you. Blissfully glistening upon your rotted deviance. There is no more time to waste. You must get busy at once. All hail the membrane of the dead. You. Cutting corners in life will only give you a piece of what you intended to receive. Nothing more. Your roots are showing. Where you are from. What you have grown. What is now growing. Your roots were originally buried in sand. Easily pulled up. Hard to nurture. Something you never knew. When it was finally given to you. Pushed away. Denied. Along with the love which came with it. You should follow through within your aesthetic, metaphorical, and literal suicide. The only gift you can give to the world. Your finality.

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