a womb with a view, act V – deluded


the farther the fallen drift, the more romantic the words sound as they float back from the edge of reticent meanderings

all of the stupid things done in vain, they seem so quaint in rose quartz stasis

hell is reaching out
nothing but the void responds

heaven is curling up
the void
wrapping itself around you



heavy handed brush strokes, freshly pantomimed, laid to rest

the ripping canvas, shredded bits of masterpieces, fireflies flitting about with scrawled flecks of watercolors

fraudulent night terrors etched on lambskin bible verses


even in the lowest ring of hell, they were inseparable

her head resting on his shoulder, his hands at the small of her back

the screams of the tormented, succinctly in time with soft footsteps across the flesh strewn floor, ignoring the geysers of gore, they glide

evisceration the only thing that can come between them, even in the bowels of eternal damnation

aware love is a series of chemical distractions, ignoring visceral responses

a womb with view, a cruel eye on beauty in misshapen times


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