Sorry I Called Out from Work, I Thought I Was Dying

Your masterpiece is visible

Painted in swatches of

Sanguine reds and purple bruises

And I’ve never damned a thing more

You’ve captured me mortal

Bleeding and open

And you present it as a gift

Damn you

How dare you show me my reflection

And call it art

I’m dying

And you have the gall to call me beautiful

Have you ever had kindness in you

Or have you always been

A leader of savages?

I’m out of explosive anger

All that remains is a pain

That leaves me empty and spent

And burning

Maybe this is hell

A promised eternity given for this agony

Was this my reward?

Cold death would be kinder

But you’ve always been one of unkindness