staxu

The sinless are faint of heart and fall for feints in spades. having never severed a snake head they languish all but strangling never knowing they struggle simply because they dangle from ropes by their clean-shaven necks but do not kick their immaculate sneakers in futile protestation -- me, I kick at everything real or imagined but mostly imagined and cross tongues with snakes as I press pen-knives deeper into their scaled throats and the sinless see me at a distance never really knowing they struggle or that I struggle for them or that I struggle against them or that I struggle.

An infinite realm, a desolate waste, this is where we live. So much to find, so much to lose, this is why we breathe. Life so fragile, hardly real enough to taste, but are we ever truly alive? This pale existence, I often wish it was through, but would it truly be easier to leave? A different lie, for every day. That's just how it goes. So much to hide, so easy to fake. That is the simplest way out. Life is hard, but death forever stays It's so much simpler if no one knows. All these lies, I only wish they were true I just wish I could scream and shout up at the sky, above this land and show everyone the real me So much to t

flames, flames, all around hear that crackling, that hissing? that's the sound of imminent death unavoidable, inescapable see that light, how it flickers and flashes through the night and spits and spews all through the sky? that is hell coming for you, my friend and for me as well no way to stop it no way to end it but what's the point in trying anyway? smell that scent? like a rotting carcass and flaming ashes, forgotten, discarded just like you once were can you feel the heat, pounding like waves in the ocean, or sand in a storm? it comes closer and closer still it burns, but you're so numb how could you feel it

Darkness, ever-present, all consuming, Ending occasionally, often resuming. This pain inside, it eats at me. Sometimes I know it can't be that this whole world is against me, out to hurt me, like a conspiracy. But I see the signs are still there even if no one else can see quite where. They just don't really want me to know that they see it too, it's all a show, put on eternally by the whole teeming mass dressed up in a costume and a mask with a knife hidden behind every back ready to kill me if I ever slack. voices, voices screaming in my ear voices, voices over you I can't hear voices, voices are you sure? voices, voices

Confusion, a delusion, a fusion of the mind that over time can wind its way this way and that way until you can't understand yourself, or think for yourself. You're lost, like a coin toss that landed on edge. Everything has you on edge and you don't know what to do or how to make it through. You never will, but still you feel so hopeless unable to stop this so shameless unable to tame these wild thoughts. You're so lost.

You, yes, you, come here See, there, on the horizon the plume of smoke, swirling in an enticing dance? Smooth, seductive, graceful and precise It nears so quickly; each pathetic breathe could be your very last. Can you see the angry glow of the sky? The flickering, sporadic flashes, like crimson lightning against the sable cloudscape? Oh, yes, I hear it! The distant thundering of fallen trees, the hissing, crackling flames as they spit and spew like a venemous serpent, coiled and ready to strike. Oh, with such ferocity does it roar! I feel  it now; it draws closer still. A subtle pressure, a pressing heat, stifling, drowning,

You came around at the perfect time wedging yourself inexorably into my life I don't know how I made it without you and I hope I never have to try again No one else can cheer me up the way you do as you crawl your way underneath my skin becoming a part of me awakening new parts of me never to be apart from me If I ever have my way by my side is where you'll stay I'll be at your beck and call ready to give my all When I'm with you a void in my soul grows smaller and I hold myself up a little taller Someday soon I'll forget about pain as you erase away the dark stain that once covered my heart and protected it with dark arts

I've been wondering all along if I'd ever deserve something like this or if there was something wrong with me to keep me from bliss It would seem all my insecure thoughts were lies because when I'm with you it feels so right You're a lightning bolt in stormy skies the brightest, most wondrous thing in the night A flash of brilliance, freezing forever and coalescing into human form From you I shall never be severed and from me you shall never be torn until long after Eternity has passed us by We'll sail across unchartered seas into the land where none must ever die and relax eternally under undying trees in a Sacred Grove for j

I'm so hollow here drifting without you I'd scream, but what's the use no one is listening the darkness clouds my sight but I hardly notice I wish the glass was half empty but it has shattered completely I'd cut myself with the broken shards but I'm afraid I might feel alive and that it might be worse than feeling nothing at all I'm told ignorance is bliss but I disagree I know nothing and yet I feel no ecstasy the darkness has consumed me or perhaps it is only leaking out of me and I should put it back inside so I might be filled with something what is it like to be filled with something? does it hurt? does it burn? I

I'm so hollow here drifting without you I would scream, but what's the use no one is listening the darkness clouds my sight but I hardly notice I wish the glass was half empty but it has been shattered completely I'd cut myself with the broken shards but I'm afraid I might feel alive and it might be worse than feeling nothing at all I'm told ignorance is bliss but I disagree I know nothing and yet I feel no ecstasy the darkness has consumed me or maybe it has escaped from within and I should force it back inside to be filled with something with anything at all what is it like to be filled with anything at all? does it h

                                                                          Requiem for Past                            the thinning crust, these                                              thought symbolics                    crumbling from weightless                                                              opulent grace                              won’t they, though, stay mired                                                  in your corrupt pleasantries?                                                                  must those wan smiles                                                             be left efface

I've never strangled a cat in my perfect little life. But we both know-- And we all talk shit out our eyes-- what the truth is. And the truth is, I have strangled a cat.

What is love? It's been asked too many times before. Old and withered, a question is like its maker. He waits between time and space for one, caring and understanding, to answer. It is the very way clocks turn and feathers fall, like anything else--instinct. Or perhaps it is a dream waiting for its dreamer to awake hoping to live in the realm of real, in vain and pain. Your taut skin repulses me; it is so new and different, and what I do not understand I do not chase down. Love is, again, without hope. Clocks will continue to turn and feathers will continue to fall, making love to the wind as they do. Oh, such a sweet scen

  All effort and accomplishments are laid to waste. Ancient thrones of stones, civilizations once thriving, will no longer smile, for God has found himself misinterpreted.  Water, delicate, sweet to the touch (but not ever for touching), does not pour so easily, and happiness does not spread so aimlessly, and freedom is not exercised so freely.  Who needs recreation while roadside warfare pumps adrenaline just the same? Productivity.  Oh, I love the dear, sweet smell of misery upon your forsaken lips. I hear sounds from the city, its darkest hour, and I grin, menacingly, at your dirt-covered face.

The meager sit on uneven, skewed sidewalks praying silently for sanction from their slow and steady demise. And where is their answer? When will the water come and sprinkle the into sparkling and sinuous summer grass? The meager sit on stiff and splintered city benches. Slowly waiting for swift salvation from these shattered and unpopular smitten faces that so long ago lost their loveliness and sat into the sickening strenuous smiles, the meager wait.

And walking around, you could only wish to go back. "Just for one moment," you plead so pathetically, and desperately. "I could fix everything in just that moment, you know. I could turn that pain into the most euphoric, and the most lovely thing that you ever did set your miserable, longing eyes on." But I, unlike you, do not believe in Memory Lane, even if I have seen it. Even if I did dwell there all those years ago. The sparkle, and the euphony, and the jealousy, and the misery all passed away long ago for me. And I don't need one more thing to lay my hungry eyes upon.

You dress like Bono and you walk like John Wayne You sweat and stutter like Senator McCaine She's been holding her breath since last December Cause she knows you can get out faster than MacGyver You act like Hugh Grant but you wish you were Bruce Lee You stay up too late watching porducts of Seth Green She wishes you could be a little bit more metro And at least pretend to share an interest in OK Go But she's sick of similes Drinking and all-night parties If he's pretending to be somebody else for her She'll pack up quicker than a Go Speed Racer You've been caught in scandel after scandel Not quite as bad as Mel Gibson or George