The Land of the Forgotten

You're a thug,
I throw thugs in a fucking ditch.
Dead to me
And dead to the world.
A different kind of scum,
With a different kind of attitude.
Another generation of ignorance,
In another generation of loneliness.
I feel to feel your words.
But your words are too sweet for me to see.
See the small lures
Trapped between the lines.
In another book of stereotypes.
So mighty and adored,
They build shrines for your kind.
And worship.
Endorsements of the holiest kinds.
Posters and magazines that fade over time.
Had you any idea,
That the people like me would arise?
Arise into the land of the forbidden?
But we shall.
Never again hypnotized by your poetry and your gall.
Living to coerce us all,
Into one of those sappy love stories.
Where nothing is real.
Where reality is a damn anomaly.
You're the reason I can't sleep.
Why the shadows can now see me.
How I fell into that abyss.
Where I believed for one second I wasn't invisible.
Where I chose to hide my tryst.
I felt invincible.

Torn from me.
My credibility.
A delicious forgotten sense.
I could feel words on my skin,
Hear touch inside of my brain.
A belligerent disinterest.
Victimless strain.
I'll be your assassin,
I love the way your blood feels on my skin.
A sensual kill,
Out of date fashion,
But old fashion it is,
And it is what I enjoy.
I'll enjoy every stem-filled sacrifice,
As I dismember and remember you.
In the Land of the Forgotten.