Kill the Boy.

Oh, my candy-mountain sculpture of covetous affairs,
How you thwart and you scorn, how you spite and you snare.

Dear virtuous vision of fictional façades,
How I’ve prayed you’d deliver unto me a breaking of bonds.

Tread light, fractured pieces of amorphous contempt,
For with focus and diligence, time applied is well spent
In this cage of un-making, my convoluted cocoon –
As it were, from its depths I prescribe you your doom.

For you cannot win; to you, I shall never lose;
Whether in love or in suffering this I know to be true:
I will rise from the chasm of self-abuse,
And when next we meet, there will be no me-vs.-you.
There will be the strength of my will, far greater then the anger of your youth,
And I’ll shed all fear from this boy, long-confused.

Inside you’ll find only the light of the Truth,
This iridescent remnant of delusional separateness,
Originating at some twisted version of me, defined in relation to all things dark/blue,
Where from him/you/me, as was inevitably to be, I am born anew.