Spilled Across The Pages 

Extinguish Wilde from my heart, eviscerate Poe from my veins.
Abate the very inspiration that inhabits my being and lay me to waste.
Eradicate the likes of Ellis from my flesh; loosen the noose of Palahniuk from my soul.
Render any and every trace useless and salvage the stolen spectacle.

Dissolve Dorian’s effect on my vanity, destroy the raven’s echoes, that dreaded and blasphemous heartbeat, in my skull.
Disintegrate Bateman’s grip on the darkest recesses of my mind, lurking just beneath the glass; deny Mr. Durden access to the strings that pull me forward, savoring the anarchy embedded somewhere deep.

Banish Bradbury’s hold on my memory; beckon the likes of King from my youth.
All that I hold sacred in my heart, the thoughts that will never seem to slow, can be traced back to that, the very first time I laid eyes on their blessed words.
Break the connection between Thompson and the rest of my functioning brain cells, burden Dante no more with matters that grip on the nearest part of my being.
Everything I’ve ever known, changed in an instant, the very second I held your beloved pages.

Sever the ties Mr. Dark has on my senses, the smell of Fall never being quite the same, but having twice the sting, strike Pennywise’s power from the recollection of my friends; the sixth grade has never been so dark.
Take away Duke’s influence from my pen, forced into a kind of seclusion is the caffeine-fueled creativity that has plagued me years over, tear that vision of a grotesquely-layered Hell the fuck apart, relinquished are the challenges that will not face any of us upon the hour of our death.

I am nothing without the written word, for it is my guide.
A beautiful legacy, spilled across the pages.
I am nothing without the written word, for it is my escape.
Take it away, and you might as well have put a gun to my head.

I am forever an addict.

© Copyright March 2015/August 2016

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