Radiation Will Be The Judge To Which You Will Testify

Returning to the burned pastures

Barren lands that lay before me tremble, they
know what is coming, beliefs held in grasp,
locked away in casks and flasks underground, reeling
Submerging from the depths, with hands as my weapon of choice,
never knowing whether it will bring me through another minute,
a quotient for survival,
Once again, repeating my used-up, recycled words again:
it is amazing,
earth-shattering,
and unbelievable how
close love lays against pure unadulterated hatred
Five minutes is more than enough,
torture under the hotlamp glares of a womans putrid scorn
Walk along my benches,
for unrelentless battery,
mental forethought compared with civil unrest and savagery,
Watch how this mammal mistreats its supposed equal,
saliva dripping down its face, stewing
in vapid guilt,
taking splendor in the destruction of my self-centered production
I am pushed into the corner by,
the one who claims to care
From the lips i once kissed,
now spews only the vitriole of true, motivated soldiers
 ready for the breakdown of consciousness and non-salvation
Wow, turned away again,
did not surprise my shoes, which walk the paths along with me,
thanking them for staying connected to me, if only by cotton, nylon and polyester
I have learned, through tribulations that might seem futile and frivalous,
but i would dare one to attempt it and then repeat the blasphemy that,
I am my own best friend
I have ten fingers that utilize the pain and force it into tangibility
My ten toes fight alongside
Not cowering to your continued callousness
I love my skin more than i will ever love you, or ever have
MY skin protects me from your sewage and situations
an epidermal armor that stratifies relation,
degradation,
and the omniprescence of manipulation,
So many dead-end ultimatums,
so much hot, wasted air,
So much time burned into the glass of the hour,
all the sand, on every beach imaginable,
could be melted, reshaped, blown, thrown, flown,
to places in the outer solar system, unknown,
and it still wouldn’t wipe away the dirt from your actions
Loving myself is so much more envigorating,
to preserve all that i have left,
and to shun the frivality of the rest of your days,
refused to allow it unto me,
Count the freckles on my spine,
each one, a goodbye to you,
farewells of what little fun did happen,
you are now forgotten,
my purpose not yet found,
                                        and still basking in your humiliation
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