Art

Note To Self: Destruction

How long can a person stagnate
In a single repeating loop
Before they lose themselves
Before they dissolve completely
Into the way
They have paved

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The Void Beyond The Red Carpet

(*Alternate title* The Magnificent Tomb)

This is the moment
It has always been
Beg for salvation
With the eyes of dying youth

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The Degeneration of Love

IV

Cascades
Broken colours
Mirrors
In shards of light

(cliche)

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The Fuckboy Twitch

Sittin’ at the sex clinic
Swiping on Tinder
Hottie sits across from me
Starin’ at my finger

Gotta get off
Gotta get off
Gotta get outta here

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Fantasyland Of The Optimist

This is my world of make believe
I’ll make you believe
And then you will see

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Abasement Of The Masochist

Deep this wound’s revealing
I’ve kept myself from any feeling

I’ve kept myself from ever healing…

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The Trail Behind You Is Death

I’ve been pissing crucifixes in the snow these days –
to mark my territory, you know.
My animal instinct to say that I have been here,
that I am here,

a symbol of my awareness.

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Beyond The Fear Barrier

*Excerpt from part one of a series of short stories, with the working title,

After Life

He sat stale and hard; his gaze transfixed on the empty white wall. His last movie screen. His projector ceased to turn – it’s parts run dry and stiff. No longer was there a shining light beaming from his lens eyes, projecting images before him.
The machine was cold and without content.

It was a peaceful enough departure. He’d been in a fantasy, a waking dream, and suddenly he just knew. The moment was upon him. Hazy, almost, and calm. He felt no panic, no fear – possibly because he had not the energy to spend on such a performance, even if he chose to.  Visions coursed through him, travelling beyond form, beyond reason – searching.

Explaining.

The cycle brought itself around full. His body slowly washed into cold numbness, and in a gradually fading light, his thoughts dimmed and all went white.

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