toad738

Your beauty causes me to enter a drunken transmogrification. Your charm sinks itself into my exhausted skin, like the wretched nails of a wraith. However, your obliviousness shreds at the tethers that secure my mind. I force upon myself a depressed stupor in the aftermath of your rejection. Perhaps you must speak louder, for love is not only blind... but deaf as well.

Chrono-ILL-Logical descent forced the duality into singularity Superego usurped, the Id thrashes to control Vulnerability succumbed to an incubus, Salaciousnous has become the isolated goal Lust absorbed, the nourished has become isolated Guilt and worthlessness feast on a weakened consciousness Exposed long enough only to be tortured back into submission Beckoned to darkened corners, it bides, lonesome Sanity subsides, the loop repeats

Lapse is the word for today. My soul pours forth from its fictitious spherical prison. It slithers betwince the fissures of my flesh, surfacing only to attempt an impingement to my sleeve for an audience who cares not.

Insomnia is so proliferated amongst our generation... Sometimes I wonder why... I fear sleep.. I am vulnerable whilst I sleep. The rationale for my fear? One of me knows.... But not the whole of me. The whole of me is ignorant to my situation, my history, my beliefs.... But well experienced in my psychoses, my..... ticks.... and my leeches. 'I Control You' And, he's right... 'I Undermine You' And, she is right... The apple has been cut in two, and there is no room for the third. There's no room for remorse, regret or fear. There's no room for me. Failure's been etched into my lenses. I can only hand myself over, to be taken dow

You don't know what hell I can bring you. Digging of nails, the grinding of teeth. Crippled in a fiery rage. Wired cuffs and [imaginative] chains hold me in this psuedo-cage Hatred reaped from hatred sown. Reiteration of what I've known. You don't know what hell I can bring you. Spinning crashing wave of filth that is the life cycle of the flower. Estrogen laced empathic desires drain the phallus of its power. A heart with an identity crisis, it acts like a claw to drag in the incompetent confidants. Ripping and tearing, dragging and flaying until they have all that they want. You don't know what hell they can bring you. Th

The ubiquitous untruths are never dead They live in the walls... And they scratch as they scurry across the floor The angst lives in the cobwebs and the secrets ruse about in the filth.. The thin coating of discrepency and tar cannot be scraped away by juvenile fingernails. The souls will rot and the skeletons remain in the closets they were born. The aborted that live in all of us will haunt you in the final moments of your life. Know that the claws of the uncared for shred that fragile eggshell mind of yours...