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Everyone, at one point or another, decides to reflect upon their life and compare it to their life now.  Perhaps, things are better than you would have hoped. Perhaps, they are better because you planned for them to be.  Perhaps, they really don’t look that different at all. You see, recently, I myself have reflected upon my life, you know, where I am now, the company I surround myself with and the things I deem worthy to spend time on.  On the surface, nothing about me has really changed. Still the same, old me, repeating the same old processes, I’ve just changed the faces that surround me… We all have a change in faces i

My teeth are clenched so hard that I can hear cracking. My nails are digging into my palm, leaving four half moons to remind me that I have my own weapons.  I do not fear you anymore.  I am not a little girl running away to lock myself in my room and hide from your oppression.  You have no power over me.  Your threats are empty as they always have been.  Sure, you can land the first blow, but your anger has started to turn into fear when you speak to me.  You know how much I hate you, and now I'm not afraid to show it.  I would love nothing more for you to hit me, mother.  Do it.  My eyes will fill with blood and I won't be able to keep my fi

I am the crow Calling out in the snow Croaking Choking In the February cold My feathers are blackened My wings stretch to the sky’s end Flying Crying In a wind so old There is no answer I am left to ponder Thinking Sinking In the winter’s bitter hold My soul cannot forgo The hopeful echo Laughing Soaring With hope to mold Dismay and grief To find it was that I heard only myself Flapping Slapping It was my own voice the echo to me sold Alone, with no one to hold I find the truth in the bitter cold My heart so old A story of my broken spirit has been told

I’ve got two bottles of whiskey riding shotgun down this old dirt road.  The cold from outside nipping at my toes as I press down farther on the gas pedal, racing away into nothing as fast as I can.  If I can’t drive fast enough, the liquor is there to kill the monsters chasing me. Tree branches reach out and grab at my car as I open the first bottle.  My chest tightens and the world begins to blur, and the sweet musky taste passes over my tongue, down my throat with a bite, and a heat that ignites the acid in my stomach as if it were as flammable as gasoline. Now the roots of the trees themselves reach up from their graves below

How beautiful self-destruction looks through the tiny view of a keyhole.  But tell me, love, what does it look like when the door is open, and the fragments of the puzzle place themselves accordingly?  Does it become terrible, or do the beauty and terror form to make the creation of destruction?  Will your heart confuse the falling for flying?  Tell me, love.  Or keep to the key hole and watch the fragments spin like the reflections of crystal.

The light has slipped Down below the sails that have shipped The darkness has been equipped In the shadows She runs from the gallows Lost in the twist and turn Of a city she is ready to burn The slap of her bloody feet on the pavement Sending shocks of pain that will not relent There is no direction For this fatal injection The poison spreading to fast Her past is the shadow it cast Creeping, breathing, clawing The monster is gnawing On the bones of her ribcage The teeth marks like dancers on a stage Keep her heart in a safe space While your gun is to her face Trembling with doubt There is no need to shout All she wishes for is velvet silen

Two lost boys Knocked on the gates of heaven St. Peter cast them away Back to the rubble from which they came Two lost boys Sat in the wreckage Broken, weeping in pain Were given a second chance Two lost boys Tried to mend their broken wounds One wracked with guilt One left all alone Two lost boys With only each other Braced against the world Together they stood on the edge for a second chance

Crack my fragile ribs with a crowbar.  Twist and pull at the tissue that lies to expose the demon writhing along side my heart and cutting off all circulation. I'm biting into the cyanide because damn it feels good to let it all go into the blackness that's swallowing me.  The foam at my mouth may not be elegant, but at least now I don't have to care about my appearance. I'm sorry if my convulsing is startling or even offensive, but it's just an effect to the effect of another effect. Nothing is coincidence and everything has a purpose.  Then what is the point of this?  Maybe I can save the human race by ending it now.  I mean, I'll be one

1. I am sitting here And I just can't fall asleep Demons rule my mind 2. So, I let you go Because when you love something It needs to be free 3. My heart is calling But you cannot answer it The storm is brewing... 4. I cannot express The darkness in my cold heart Without shattering 5. Yes, I am sad but I don't want your forgiveness Just be happy, please.

I am cold and dead to the world around me.  My numbness stretches from my rib cage outward to my fingertips and toes.  The coldness itself is so thorough even physical pain feels like nothing. I can start to feel the warmth again when half this bottle of vodka is pumping through my veins, and when the bottles gone, I feel as if I could rule the whole world from the floor of a bathroom with my head in a toilet. In that moment I’m on my knees smiling and praying to the God I don’t believe in to have me drown in a pile of my own bile. In the morning I awake in my bed or on someone’s couch, still drunk because bottles usually