because i love alphonse mucha

random photoshopnez

the tree exorcist

when she's sober, she's dangerous... when she drinks, she's legal...

who is she?
.
.
.
- a nightmare.

- a heartbeat.

- a priestess.

.

.

who was she?

· · ·

- a prostitute... i don't know.

- a child.

- a mother.

.

.

who did she hope to be? · · ·

·

- she does not remember.

.

.

- she never decided.

- no one.

.

.

.

.

.

···· · · · · · · · · · · · ·

what's so funny? · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

- life.

.

- you.

- me.

blankness

dated february 8, 2007

2.19 am

there are a dozen reasons
why
i would rather give my mind over
to a black hole
then be blantantly aware
that what remains of my
grey matter
is merely rotting away
as i sit
suspended in
the boughs of time,
that merciless agent
that runs over my
skin,
twisting my
small intestine
into knots
that even twenty-seven
girl scouts could never
untie.
i reveal myself
through lapses
in memory.
otherwise,
i confine my soundless
words to abysses that
are ten times the depth
and darkness of
the shadows that
fall beneath the bridge of Khazad-Dùm
in the ancient caves of Moria

beautiful loser

dated september 22, 2005

__________________

_______________________

cold hands lead to blank thoughts

there's nothing left much to do

Old hangings in the web

Inspiring and painstaking

Sitting, aching for reason

But the sheet below is warm

Curled beneath are icy feet

Above, the mind is filling

With tidings of moments

long past

crumpled shreds of tissue

lie scattered and strewn about

eyes weep, sweeping away

the masses but the shreds

remain

torn, like my lungs after

five cigarettes

oh, what of eyes

that search meaning

there was no meaning no

solution

just you and the grace that

you wasted on the most

trivial things

they said you were beautiful

you are

but somehow you failed yourself

sometime, a long time ago

in a past life

is there any turning point?

are you still cold?

searching for something that will

forever keep my lips from drying up

is a difficult thing

so why can't i see

There are no eyes to life

only to beauty

why is it so harsh?

the soul is a desperate friend

scanning the faces of your city

for empathy

there is something left within your

mind

an intangible source that spreads warmth

to the nerves in your fingers

but you can never find it

it's lost within you like movement

just sit still

what of words, why not silence

for once

please

you're still here and you say you

believe in me and i know that

you mean it

i wish i could accept this

it spears me in my veins

but you are still

here

and i finally

understand

that

my intangible

desire

is

a constellation

of your

smile

untitled

no one understands
no one understands
the ongoing war within me
a battle being fought
day & night
a feeble and yet relentless attempt
to put an end to the chaos
in my mind
in my gut
in the intangible wisps
of my soul
the soul that is slowly depleting
with every exhale
with every successive beat of a seemingly healthy heart
explain to me then why it hurts to breathe
there you stand, arm stretched out
reaching in, splaying ribs
fist clenched, trying to help
squeezing
suppressing
stopping the flow of my tainted blood
to my aching and blackened heart
i scream.
but you don’t hear me.
i’m already dead on the inside.
i scream.
it echoes in the distant valleys of my abandoned mind
i’m dead on the inside.
i scream.
this time the tears flow, the arms flail,
the knife cuts, the blood splatters
remind me why i need to do this.
i smile.
to escape.
you scream.
all smiles fade
let me go.
it’s ok.
it’ll be… fast.
you won’t remember.
you stare.
through me.
at me.
in me.
there is nothing
i am
gone.
empty

i scream.
you’re no longer here
i’m dead on the inside.



it’s quiet.


still.



i scream.i want to die.