Tuesday December 11th 2007, 1:32 pm
Filed under: All Letters,Hate Letters

Dearest One,

Tonight’s conclusion: Fuck you. Oh wait, should I be more philosophical, more poetic for you? Ok, I’ll try– bitch. For whom heaven has cast out, for those where love is no longer life, for that which has seeped through the purest of hearts and the thickest of shields, there is you. You are a black feather on a white dove, a shadow in the valleys of sun, a tarnished stain on the chapel’s walls. DO YOU NOT SEE YOUR OWN DISGUST? Can you not feel the darkness that surrounds you? How can a speck of rust corrode a fine metal? A metal so pure that god herself can see her reflection in its shimmer. Are you a happy demon? Does destruction bring you gratification? Blessed by the horns of Lucifer art thou, and praise thee winged lover of death, as there is no other glorification you shall receive in this journal. The chaos you bring under your tarnished feathers of doom is that which brings my body to its knees. You are the destroyer of goodness; you are the temptation of that which is holy- my being. For your grace, I do not give thee praise, yet I allow you to consume my light, digesting its photons to produce and reproduce darkness – you are the machine which destroys goodness. And yet you call yourself a mortal woman? How can it be, a mortal such as yourself, has the power to convince my love of anything other than its original intention: truth, honesty, joy, laughter and kindness. You make this man, I, a being of light, turn to the shadows. My face cracks and the monster protrudes in your presence. To this day, even at this hour, god’s hour, the thought of you turns this scientist into a lunatic, a maniac of sorts that thrives on death and destruction. You are the poison in the well; you are the vile transformation I have become – a mirror for hate and despair. And yet, you are still my wife, my bond in “holy matrimony” and my official lover. Does this not make sense? Do you see the irony in this dualistic connection? Of course! Everything is coming together now, as the puzzle pieces snap oh so gently into one another. I cannot be the light without your darkness as my shadow. I cannot love without the hate I’ve built for you. The day will not rise if the moon never sets. So set then, you black heart. Fill me with the power to move beyond your void, so that I may shine rays of peace and love to my neighbors. Will you not do me this favor I ask? Can you not accept this truce? I beg of you, die already. Bury your disgrace in a mountain, so that I may rise over the ocean.

-Your Stupid Saint.

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