Call me The General
Of the anonymous generation-
The Metathiest!
Too sad for religion,
Wearing my broken heart like a shirt-
It’s the modern fashion!
I’m of the dregs and derelicts
Documenting the death of discovery
And importance,
Purpose and Reality

Screaming breathless to
God’s inventors that we need a new One-
A writer!
With more pain than we could ever read
A fornicator
Rule-breaker
Levitator
Defying gravity and happiness-
Suffering is so stylish!
Like addiction is an escape
From a dispassionate night
Requiring far less effort and
Melodrama
Than a blade or a bullet…

So watch me-
Before my Big Crunch comes
I can promise the world a piece of my
Hurt-
And it will be beautiful and will erupt
Just when I think
I’m nearing Singularity

And I will -Break- your heart…

THE END