what reading ft willz poems does to a mf
potential title: God told me to pimp out my hearse
I met god today,
Her voice was hoarse, croaking from the bellows of her core trying to get me to listen.
I shielded myself in the face of holiness, covered my ears and
Oh how she cried.
Shrieks of torment echo through this vile mess of ventricle cubicles.
I stop, everything stops.
She spoke softly, eyes meeting mine, the air going cold, chilling the flood of thoughts that rush to my head.
Glaciers formed turning this dreary fog frozen.
Gusts of wind stripped my eyes of lids and tore off my exterior, putting all of these faulty wires on display.
Do you like what you see?
Her vacant gaze now matched mine, and unsaid words were spoken so tenderly.
I met god today,
She told me exact revenge on all who had wronged me.
Dread incarnate consumed me,
Old feelings reanimate and crawl out of the relic that repressed them.
FIlth adorned my body,
grime gluing me to the floor, paralyzing me in my wake.
If cleanliness is godliness then why has she made me so dirty?
I’ve scrubbed my skin raw and exposed the bones that lay in this casket bed.
I shed my skin and crawled out of my flesh and buried myself under my exoskeleton.
She watched me tear myself apart and produce new life in the craters of my face,
I watered my crops, roses bloomed in the midst of famine,
Let the thorns pierce my eyes as sockets fill with toxins,
Face garnished with crimson, battered and bloody.
I met god today,
I asked for solutions. She gave me obsoletion, the only other option is rebirth.
I ripped out my arteries to rid myself of the heartstring for the rectification of evolution.
I let the flame find furnace against my flesh and melded myself to nothingness.
I met god today, she threw up black bile and it was the most beautiful thing i'd ever seen.
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I wrote this a few months ago, i hope anyone that sees this enjoys :)