Outer Space
Even in deep space, your love holds me down, Your embrace has weight, and keeps me coming, back…
Born with an acid tongue, you launched verbal attacks that ended careers.
Like burn victims in India, you lashed out to defend perceived threats against your honour.
Sonic boom—the sound of each blow landing like atomic bombs in Hiroshima.
Nagasaki even knew you created more casualties than Iwo Jima.
Instead of saliva, you spit genocide, each word its very own Holocaust.
Casual remarks were like concentration camps, reuniting divided families in chambers gassed.
Vocal terrorism, with every sentence ending in beheading.
The scars you left were like brands by iron rod on broken hearts.
“Sonic boom—the sound of each blow landing like atomic bombs in Hiroshima.”
— Vitriol.
Even in deep space, your love holds me down, Your embrace has weight, and keeps me coming, back…
When I rage, I rumble, cave, and crumble, slip and stumble, bleak, I bumble,…
You came along when skies were dark, just like a song, you left your mark. Upon my heart, I felt a…
my love is just another crutch; a whole circus, tainted by trust. oh wizard me, enchanted thee;…