Macabre

I want to feel death's breath on my neck.

I want to peer into the exquisite emptiness.

Just laying there with a vacant stare.

On the ground, not a sound, except maggots biting down.

Feeding their existence, as they rid me of mine.

When I die, I want to leave a mess.

Maybe an exploded heart from a caved in chest.

When you do something you should do your best!

May I rest in pieces when I'm finite with dynamite.

Making day to night by flicking the life switch.

Life's a bitch and then you die, why cry about it?

There's beauty in the macabre.

Beauty in a slit wrist.

We begin and then we end, make your journey worth it