Scream

As I set this fucking world ablaze, I will sit alone and laugh as I watch your mangled corpse wither into nothing more than the very dirt from which you came. It will be forever and a day too late by the time you disambiguate into nothing and I will hate you even more as I watch your bones turn to the blackened remnants of the disaster that used to be. It will be forever and a day too late when the ash dissolves away into nothing but timeless history.

Now tell me these ruins are meaningless. Tell me you are forever as these flames rise higher. Scream to me one more time you promise, because I didn’t believe you in the first place. As you scream one last time, I will stand in the ruble, matches in hand and a smile on my face. I will smile because I will know, your last words, your last screams your last breath was taken as you bore witness to your own self embodiment.

In your last moments, as you are engulfed in the million degrees of my loathing, to whom will you pray? To whom will you beckon for salvation? To whom will you plea for one more chance at a life you, before, so hastily neglected? Now, at your most dire moments of fading away, will you worship your false idols? Will you call to your pop star Icons…because no one will save you from your self induced demise?

God’s on vacation, he’s sitting this one out, and I’m the only one who can hear your screams. And I am the one who will never care again.

I will not scatter your ashes; I will not post a monument. And never will I look back on your existence…

I will not shed a tear as I watch your flesh melt away from time. For you are a thief, and I merely an assassin and this is the age of superficial imperialisms and stiletto killers.

In your last moments as any sort of credible figure, will you think of your fleeting life and the nothing it represented? Will you apologize before damnation for your blemished soul that was impoverished of anything notable? You are only one, minute insect plastered against the windshield of existence…and you meant nothing.

Will you hope for rain to extinguish the agony of your so morbid enlightenment? Or shall I piss on your flames?

After all, your vanities never failed you in the past. This is where your narcissism has gotten you, if your own depletion was labeled Versace you would ever so surly consume it.

This is your life.

This is your society.

This is a plague brought unto you.

This is your Abercrombie America. Your Botox drive-thru bourgeoisie, is this the material condemnation you so willingly choose?

Never will you sustain a moment as gilded as the one in which you are living now.

As I set this fucking world ablaze, what will you be screaming?