Complex? Nah, Caesar gets statues, I get static, I get seizure, whole room twitching when I speak, you feel it, then you need it, then you read it like a procedure. No Hannibal, no Lecter, just lectures, you love hearing yourself teach, but I’m not your little worksheet, I’m the consequence you can’t annotate out of reach. No elephant in my room, I don’t decorate denial, I gut it, I say the quiet part loud, then watch you flinch like you didn’t want it, but you love it. Alexander with the blueprint, Vlad with the spectacle, conquer you with language first, then with pressure when the moment gets sexual. That “impale” ain’t history class, it’s heat, it’s you dragging me closer by the collar, it’s you wanting the power and hating yourself for it, then begging for another. Pound turns to impound in my mouth because I like ownership in the syllables, I like the way control sounds when it’s mutual, when it’s chosen, when it’s physical. Coal under pressure, you want diamonds, but you show pyrite when you front, fake shine, real mouth, you talk big then act small when it’s time to be blunt. I’m a flight, I don’t carry your baggage, I let it ride above you, over your head twice, meaning you missed the point and you still want me to love you. So check it. I’m not here for your lectures, I’m here for the truth and the after, the part where you stop pretending you don’t want the same dark chemistry you’re mad I mastered.
