Talking with myself 102 (the interview)
by: Kief Dillon
Rushing fingers grace like hounds on the hunt,
That’s what I am…that’s what I always have been
…hound on the hunt
What have I been hunting for
The fox?
The beast I was never able to pin my sins on?
I chase, I chase for it is my reason
I chase to feast…
…on what?
I stumble upon this thought as if I was hiding it from myself
I look down in shame, I whisper the answer
I feast on fears
…on doubts
on promises I’ve given on full knowledge of their failure
I feast on weakness and hollowed pride,
I feast on the lonely,
the broken
the humble and meek… .
A voice shouts from some wild place in my heart…then what does that make…you?
I draw upon my mind, I know the answer
I fear it’s delivery
…I am…I…am
The beast,
The beast than reigns in crucifix, his eyes upon the rose betwixt, I wait upon the avenue, and prey upon the sheep like you, my fangs glimmer fear, my pupils the end, I dance with the children and lie to your friends, mix in with the lot of them, burn, fuck, kill all the twisted stems…I am the beast
The beast that feeds…
The true reason you fear the dark
The thing that makes you twinge and fidget…
That weird chill…
The unending ravine
I am the beast, and I stand proud of my obscenities
