Like Me

How could I ever be dead like you?
To be that way would to be like a banished shadow
Engulfing the world, searching for some light
But all it occupies just isn’t nearly enough

To be like Jesus’ son, unsure about his place
How I could ever live up to the nails in hands is beyond me
Pluck out my eyes, send them into the loneliness of space
So I can see horror and beauty, like a messiah

To be at the lowest point of the negative spectrum
A color so dark, darker than black
To stare at me would be to stare at oblivion
And witness doomsday times a million

To be a killer of the senses, of the pleasure center
Then to feel nothing but a prick of death
A killing blow of an anarchistic masochist
So freer than the rest, but no reason to continue

To have the knowledge of a thousand minds
Then my intellect will push you down so low
I’ll pass judgment with crude anger and resentment
All the while hiding my self loathing under my skin

To be a bittersweet junkie transvestite
Pushing the needle deep, selling some sin
Until I’m a broken being, nothing like before
When I was a saint for the broken

To be a ticking time bomb, ready to go off
You can’t stop me, the end’s inevitable
I’ll lay waste to the land you all hold onto so dearly
And all that will remain are ghosts of Christmas past

How could I ever be dead like you?
To be that way would to be broken beyond repair
Praying that the end would come quick for real this time
Then again, maybe I am