golden child,

unconquerable king,

how does it

feel

to hold the world in the

palm of your

hands

only to have it slip between your

fingers

because of

her?

tell me, o

golden child,

enlighten me, o

unconquerable king,

does it

hurt

to fall into the arms of a

woman

who has no intention

of

falling

into yours? a woman

who will eventually be

your

ruination?

i assume it

does,

golden child,

i assume it

burns,

unconquerable king,

just like divinity does when it

claws at your skin and

kisses your lips

in an attempt

to gain entrance.

but you are ineffably

infinite,

are you not?

ruination does not

come

to you;

instead you

bring it to those who

crave

its touch.

or so it seems, because

divinity cannot take away this

longing, this overpowering

need

that you have for the one

who will take you down and

scatter the sky with your

bones

the first chance she gets. 

o

golden child, o

unconquerable king,

can you not see your

folly? can you not see just how

blind

you have become?

you long

for your death, you long

to see the sky turn

red

as she paints its fragile

canvas

with your toxic blood, and all because you

love her.

love is a dangerous thing, but

intelligence

is lethal. and

golden boy,

unconquerable king,

she will be the

deadliest poison

you have

ever

come across. she will be your

ruination.

(3/8/18)