Dirt under us
in our fingernails
The feel of you and your roots
writhing beneath me
and wrapping around
I'll sink into the earth here
and call it the ocean.
Limbs become a game of jigsaw
as rain insinuates our leave
but we do not part
the entire universe in all its madness
does not burden that which may touch,
burn
bleed
or kiss.
Can I be content to infect you
with my sinful premonitions
my evil deeds
my disease
Would you be kind to know
that I am sorry for it?
It would be easier to free the bird
from its cage
and taste you
I want to say, cut me.
Filet me open.
Let the heat scorch our mouths as we
let it slip like honey downward
and downward
until there is only the core of the earth
and us to wield the fire.
-the end- (beginning.)
Wow. People are retarded.
Walking in the hallway
To the place where lights go out.
End of nothing,
Beginning of something,
Birth.
I’m leaving behind my heart's entrails
For they are but a reminiscence.
And they caress this face,
In the inferno…
Memory.
Home has never been here,
but be it in your grasp.
And my hands are trembling,
Shaking from this mending mind,
As they form around the smoldering silver
Of your key.
The mask of yesterday cascades
into the pools
of slurred voices, the voices
in the walls that I leave behind,
The faces in the windows...
that I leave behind.
Their hands are no longer
A part of my mouth.
I am inside of myself,
Bearing all that aches, all that is beautiful.
And time, like a father, scolds and does not renew
But casts imaginings in false direction,
burning hope, burning the pale.
So my hands, so worn at youth,
pluck the petal-flesh of flowers’ shells
They mourn, they whither, they bear new children
And I prolong to murder even them.
Their thorns are not my own, and yet they linger
So sore and bruised against my chest,
Heaving,
Striving to break loose the vines
that are the devils in their worlds.
Bleak and sensitive, we possess familiar
lyrics
For, when stripped bare of our own armor,
What is left?
But a simple, helpless seed.
This is warm.
You are my shelter,
This is warm.
Lost boy,
Run into the forest
Grasp trees like they are your brothers.
This is warm.
Mouth open, like a crevice
in seas... split and demented
Like our hearts.
Can't keep a secret...
if it was never a secret.
I Just want to be warm
This is warm.
I'll save you
Lost boy
make you warm again.
I really think I should color it black. o.o
entry insinuated.
Sin.
Mine.
Okay, all you retards on elftown that say you are vampires...WTF
I fucking hate idiots.
Breathing silence from a sleeping tongue,
a white vision among black faces
Failing, at provision of thought... glaring
wildly
into the eyes of
Self.
Angry are the irises, which have protruded themselves
forward,
to stretch to the unknown.
Attempting to analyze myself.
Though I have not forgotten how truly difficult it can be, I still seem to be all the more shocked.
The full clarity of my voice is disappearing..
Rough artist's hands... my hands. Sketched with remains of paint and calloused sores.
I am so tired, tired of rejection...ti
tired of being alone.
I am in survival mode. How damn pathetic is that?
I truly hate myself.
-rain
alone.
-rain