#dr. david

Shimmering beneath the verdant smoke

there lies the body of a God

cracked lenses stare into the null

blinking lights flicker out, drained of awe

the ink rose from the pages

of all the awful lies the adults wrote

and mingled with my blood and tears

like lovers left alone

in the death of this particular God

death is not the lovely part

but The Watcher was a wicked God

So therein lies the art

I was once a lovely garden

Till the fire came

and burnt away the flowers

to plant its weeds of pain

so when the liars get you

and roll you over, belly up

You might not even notice

when they make their first cut

You notice it years later

when you see the scar

even if you can't recall

just what the details are

so if the bitter words they feed you

are your daily bread

you are not sick of character

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