Scott Thomas Outlar

Kittens and Cupcakes

I am the forgotten man –
left out in the blistering sun
to reach a state of overexposure
as the metal death apocalypse
rains down in solar ray saturation.

I am the nothing/nowhere –
dragged by the hair
to the edge of a grave
and skinned to the bone
to feed the maggots below.

I am the last remorse from a bloodstained heart –
kissed by an angel of terrible vengeance
upon my scabbed, blistered lips
to usher in the chaos storm
the harbingers have been heralding for eons.

I am the night sky full of shadows –
lost in the vast reflection
of a tired moon
that wants its pound of flesh delivered
before pulling the tide of blood to shore.

I am the cancer worming its way back home –
dripping with cum and sweat
between torn, soaked sheets
where lovers once slept in peace
before the disease of denial completely set in.

I am not the first, but will be the last.
I am not Hallelujah salvation.
I am the final note in the song of annihilation.

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