Snap the headphones

Onto my head.

Put the CD into the player.

Crank up the volume, baby.

My ears can take it.

The most calming roar

One could ever imagine.

The image coming to mind

As dreamy as it is frightful.

A burning.

And everything is on fire.

Aerials, in the sky.

Everything aflame,

No one escapes.

Cinders are your mates in your silent tomb.

Die there, burn.

A hatchet in your heart.

Your blood on my hands.

The warmth of guilt,

The giddy feeling of mutinous thought.

And for that moment,

I hate you with the passion of that fire.

I want to break your soul over my knee.

The feeling fades

As the music pulls me under.

As if on cue, you swirl into the frame,

With your colors of oblivion and carelessness

Saturating the air around you with your idiocy.

You pull off my headphones

And try to touch me.

I fix you with a glare

And you pull your hand away

As if one touch of my skin

Might vaporize you.

You have no idea.

My mind’s eye sees me

Slapping you across the face with one hand

As I replace the headphones over my ears with the other.

I fight the urge

And hold the dagger behind my back

Until the next time I fly with the Aerials.