Poof* Take MY water

sunday is my 36th birthday
so i find myself looking down
into my arms
wondering
why i’m still carrying this shit around
see
today is fucking friday
and fridays are for freedom
they’re for setting fire to people
who deserve a good burning
all my rotten wood is collected
moments of chocolate covered regret
soured creamy feelings
and behavior patterns more injurious
than self mutilation
the gas can in my hand
trusty zippo in the other
ready to take flight
your army will be driven into the sea
i will eat your war
i will eat your god beliefs
i will eat your evil
i will eat your rules
i will eat your academic snobbery
and still have time
to eat some pussy
at times my eyes find him
staring up into the castle
apple tree perched
torn chuck taylors crossed and dangling
green eyed copy of kafka
adorning ripped knees
dripped upon by his
twisted faustian grin
when he places himself there
i avoid windows
remembering why the gate remains unopened