let me cauterize my heart,

to seal my wound.

let me snake my veins,

to rip the muck from my depths.

i would rather extinguish all hope,

than enslave myself to it,

for even a moment more.

the drive reads all zeros;

i don’t care what we wrote;

books on shelves are too legible for my liking;

its not my fault you’re such terrible writers.

i will make you inert.

i will make you inanimate.

i reap.

have fun mourning.