Mental Mirages, Or Somthing Grander?

Do you see shapes in the dark? Shadows and lies among the lack of light. I cannot define whether fact or fiction provide these images. My optical devices are fooled by simple mental fears. Or mental mirage? I cannot judge, as I have no gavel nor robes to speak of. I have simple stiching and a heart of silver bullets arranged ever so to protect from such great horrors, yet be devices and destroyed by the easisest trickery. As is my mind and eyes on such late hours and low rays. Low particles. The lids shall shut and I shall let the rain upon the roof and walls numb my worry and sing me soft melodies to sleep soundly within, wrapped warm and firm. Heart rate slows... I drift into my lovely state of peace. Every second is worshiped.



Night brings out the beasts, both good and evil,

<3

Red Rage

This evening I took your painting down off of my wall. 
Brush strokes of the past, I stand apauled 
I cannot breathe these fumes in
The art too thick to coexist
Who was the selfish one?
Witch one of us...

Blame, deep rooted in shame, there is no colour representing this emotion.
No name can be given
Spines shiver and and shake the houses we live in
Abandoned artwork
Sex, drugs and blood
Red rage referencing ink and page
Nobody should
Nobody should mimic our slavery

He'll heartily awaits us
Our creation in hand 




Fuck.
<3

Somthing More

Music is my drug
I find a high in the sound
Sonic uplifting


Sxe hiku,
<3

Vomit and Filth

Darling please forgive me 
For the actions with no reason are about to transpire
But if your heaviest symptom is drowning
Were both lovers and liars

Oh

Darling darling darling darling darling
Please forgive but never forget
For I refuse to relinquish these memories that rest in my head

Oh

There's no structure, only acupuncture
The placebo effect stands erect among our choices and glass truths that shattered unto the lies from witch they were birthed

Oh

Spewed from our mouth
Vomit and filth
Fucking disgrace and shame
Fucking vomit and filth

Filth!




Drawing from every angle,
<3

A Night So Bright

That whore dawned a crown of thorns, oh she's bleeding from the mind
she must be losing oxygen, for through the smoke, shes lost her sight
blind, she's playing victim, the cowards way of life

dilated pupils, blurry imagery from a beautiful world
she numbs herself from reality, mind melted, she'll never be the same
in her own head, she's fighting, rebelling against-
the ones she was supposed to love, although it never quite made sense
her senses dulled, diluted, her lifetime hollow, spent

problem after problem, pushed deeper into the skull
so-called life of hell, she has herself to sell, under the gaseous spell

she wishes for her palms to be dirtied, the same fashion as her wrists
nailed to the dead wood, crucified, though nothing truly exists

pound the nails unto her open palms
self inflicted pain, her self-compossed sympathy, symphony song.

feel sorry for her, not because she's right,
but because she's embarrassing herself, and everyone in her life
escape was my only option, not to be consumed but such self righteous customs
leave to love another
leave to love another
leave to love another day, another night
a night so bright







doing this, no matter the price

<3

A Story To Say Goodbye...

As his mind wanrderd and worried at the course of the actions to follow that evening, he spiralled even further into the madness of his mind, as he couldnt continue his climb up the steap stairs to his once bright and fruitfull perch upon the top his world. the sweet and shining steel and gears that had cooled his hand as he lent his heat to it now entered is ever falling mind. could this be the story his future neeses and nephews would have to hear, the same story his family would have to live with eating at their mind and hearts for the rest of their beating days? similarly to every day that had passeed since the tragic final event in a series of events that would destroy a normal hearted man. this once gental mans hatred was not always so strong and focused. no... this strength of emotion was once empowerring the feeling of love. but now... now he main focus and only power was of that in his hand, that cold metallic escape. he now new without shadows of doubt or rays of hope where is map would end this evening, what the treasure chest underneath the x contained. as the plans depicted, he slowly but surly, in his mind and in his heart, raised his hands to his head, full of smelted mineral that had been cast into a final solution, his final solution. he caressed his lips with the tip, the beginning of his end, and finally knowing. feeling the length decent past his heath, over the tongue, feeling the and coldest touch he's ever know. tasting the solid out of his burning state. a cool drink of water. following the insertion, he grasped and gripped his hand tightly around the other end of his tool. after a second of searching, he found the sweet spot to start the ending process. everything is moving fast, extreme pace, the light slowly fading. he mustarded every ounce of courage and sweat and strength he could find in he tired body and bones and with every muscle engulfing his skeleton, he pulled... no, he squeezed his momentary best friend with all the heart of the world and with an explosion of lead and pain he was released as his form fell to the floor. he closed his eyes for the final time, slowly and sure, as he leaked out upon the ground, staining the temporary carpet grave. motionless. painless, for the first time in longer than any memory. any memory, that is, except for one. and that memory, remorseful and hopeful, knocked upon his door, waiting for an answer that would never arrive. such is life.






death, sexualized,
<3

Blackest Maiden

Blackest maiden
temptress and seduction

all she needs is one drop of your sweet crimson nectar
before she has your scent, so sick and unpure
after first contact she'll recede into the darkness
she'll wait till the perfect second to unleash her personal brand of horror

once you're under her hazy and smokey spell, escape is a distant option
for there is no exit from this hell, rotting your heart from the inner most core
death and your last breath is the only thought upon your brainwashed mind
once you've filthied your mind with the truth, you see what the blackest maiden has truly done to you
to your mind
to your heart

dead inside, dead alive, end this heartache or end this life
destroy the wench
destroy the deceiver
bleed her out
i want the blood of the blackest maiden
i need her head upon my mantel
a fire burning bright and a true and real love wrapped in my arms
happiness in my heart, beating heavy and proud
death to all black maidens
hell to the blackest






dedicated to that back stabbing bitch,

<3

Selfishness?

Your calloused hands and your burnt tongue do little to comfort me in these dark ages,
an era of grown and learning, yes, but also of brash realizations and potentially harmful experimentation. i think of you often and in heavy, burdening thoughts. these ideas at a constant frantic rush to find the next aimless braincell to overturn and take complete control of. such is a very similar manner in witch the nicotine and cannabis loves control your every move. giving pleasure to get pleasure, are we darling? that is how the rumor goes at the very least. disgusting. utterly repulsive. the fine line between fun & fondness and obtuse abuses is crossed with little concern for your health and safely and absolutely no concern for the feelings and well being of those who are closest to you in your heart. and i selfish? and i asking too much? can love drive these actions or is this merely the cry of a desperate man wanting to feel young again? like he had in those years past, now long lost to the tides of time.

every day i sit and try to believe our love is still real, exsisting and true, just merely misplaced amongst our other emotions, yet with each passing second it grows harder to see that as reality and not mythical fantasies created simply as a false ray of hope by a beaten and broken old heart. worn and torn from the tides and the storm...

only time will tell if our rivers shall intertwine again.

smoke and covers the edge and love blinds whats left. we must use our truest senses to feel, to smell, to see, to hear, to taste our future.

is it palpable still? or a bitter brew of lies and truth?

i am uncertain we will ever know for certain...




moving forward, but not truly onward yet,

<3