Terrible melted wax figurine
With large, grotesque, bloated lips
Spewing poisonous vapor
In a cacaphony of venomous words.
Semi-dead zombie
Enslaved by your addictions and ego,
An unwelcome, uninvited presence
Cutting your way
In scattered scissor steps
Through the lives
Of your imagined, maligned enemies.
Easily tracked
By the path of slime
You leave in your wake;
Upheaval and broken roads
That, try as you may,
You’ll not walk again.
Hard greasy air,
The residue of your fetid breath.
Living inside your death
You fight hard to be recognized,
But you are inconsequential,
Nothing,
A non-contender
Who entered the ring
Under false pretenses.
Your mask is slipping,
The ugliness now showing,
You claw at your face
Drawing blood,
Licking it as it seeps
Onto your large, grotesque, bloated lips.
Tearing at your disguise,
The world witnesses
Your true bloodsucking self;
Wild eyes darting,
Riddled with lies,
Evil, emotional vampire.
Readied for the stake,
For the sake of the world,
It is driven through
Your dark blasphemous heart
In one swift thrust of righteousness.
A new day dawns
Shining brilliantly
The Sun celebrates
Your final departure.
© 2012 Candice James
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