 
The Chronicles of the Abyss: Volume I

The Chronicles Of

The Abyss:

Volume I:

Poems for The

"Mentally Ill"

Joshua Wilmoth
Copyright © 2016 Joshua Wilmoth

All rights reserved.

ISBN:

ISBN-13:

DEDICATION

My loving family, adopted & birth.

Especially my mother & father, Zoe Ann & Thomas Wilmoth.

For the life I have been given and endless love and support.

My birth-mother, Sherry Rozen.

For bringing me into this world, and always

being there for me.

Waiting until I was ready.

My best-friend Bruce Wayne Ballard

For being Batman.

For being him.

For being the best friend a guy like me could

ever ask for.

For my lost friend, Jacob Comeaux.

Rest easy, Jacob Austin Comeaux.

&

For my beloved daughter, Summer.  
My golden joy.
Authors Note

These are poems I have hand-selected from the depths of my mental palace, "The Abyss", my mental archives. They still help when things get too overwhelming. For all of those suffering from mental-illness, addiction, abuse, abandonment, and trauma. I dearly hope these help you, and if not for yourself, do it for me, take care of yourself. – Joshua

dedications-

table of contents- (you are here)

acknowledgements –

Welcome to the abyss (THE portal to my mind) – P.2

golden floods – p.28

Tracers & Shadows - P.30

Crimson sea – P.32

Binds Part I – P.36

Binds part II – P.42

WildFire – P.46

The meat shop – p.49

Psychosis # 1 – P.52

My Muse – P.57

All The Same – P.59

Separate – p.63

Sadness: A warning – p.75

The first christmas since you HAve been lost – p.78

Dome-wyrd (doomed fate) – P.83

A devil coiled in flesh – p.88

Bruises (a legion of confusion) – p.96

Madness – p.99

Spiders – P.103

oscilLating thought # 1 – p.108

brown glasses – p.110

sick-puppy – p.114

the moon – p.122

An age of darkness – p.124

dames – p.134

the mirror – p.136

pretty little lies (what lies below) – p.142

the devil dances on the pale lake (illuminate) – p.150

toxic – p.157

vice – p. 164

you're sick – p.171

Nightmares & psychotic snares – p.178

shambles – p.186

trauma – p.207

about the author – p.216
The Chronicles Of

The Abyss:

Volume I:

Poems for The

"Mentally Ill"
I'm the voice you bottle-up, because you think

you're nuts.

– Joshua Wilmoth

So this is permanence,

Love shattered pride.

What once was innocence,

Is turned on its side. – Ian Curtis.

Rest in peace Prince Rogers Nelson, David Robert Jones, Lewis Allan Reed, Michelle McNamara
Welcome to The Abyss

(The Portal to My Mind)

I may look white as a griffon.  
You're all mistaken.  
I'm a ghostly apparition.  
Lifeless corpses all vacant.  
I know how quick innocence can be

taken.

How peace of mind becomes a lifelong

mission.

With succubus's and evil selfish

wenches.

They only worsen in severity and

intensity, their dark eyes glisten.

In dire repetition.

So just stop asking if I'm okay,  
And have an intricate listen.

I know the loneliness.

And how it burns.  
The racing thoughts, and endless

Circles.

their repeating turns.

I know these familiar words.

I know about the worst.

Watching your daughter dance in

flames.

Cackling and laughing your name.

As I watch her tiny limbs break.  
Entrails and blood flood the room of

resonating pain.  
With a shrieking wail.

Followed by a freezing rain.

she fades.

A mystic beauty with a moon-beam gaze.  
But not before the barbed wire latches

to my face.

Starlight is no one's to take.  
It's spikes penetrate.  
Blood outlines my shaking nape.

The only thing I can muster up  
Is what it was

I know what it means,

for sadness  
To turn into inevitable madness.  
And how quickly that madness,  
drives you to hate.  
Burning bridges,  
just to end in the same  
Familiar place.

A familiar room with four walls,  
No Windows,  
No escape.  
Guilt personified in your own mind frame.

It's so easy to say get over yourself,

When you were never six and raped.

By your best friend, hopping on a

plane,

To L.A.

What, a birthday.  
Adoption, origins are a strange thing.

Maybe you'll take a second, and wonder

why the worst days, are the holidays.

Incessant voids,  
with madness as the only viable

escape.

I'm a weather wizard so let's start up

the rain.

Quickly but surely it'll contort into

a pulsating hurricane.  
The terrible horrendous winds,

mark all of the destruction in its

wake.

Well I need a new Slate to create,

anyway.

I never knew heartbreak would be the

one I thank.

For a world with such interesting

characters,

That I don't care much for you kids

these days.

I mean what is the point.

You kids

always move on to the next clique or

social caste to infiltrate.

It laminates your existence with an

incessant ugliness.  
Like a magazine skin

glossed over and tamed  
To devious ways.  
Its temporary and fake.

I love the outcasts,

The loners who always seem forsaken.  
But the madness always stays.

These plastic friends  
That would never be caught dead at

your wake.

It leads me to dive in.  
With a scuba mask,  
with infinite oxygen.  
Down to the abyss.

Past thousands of fishes and

creatures.

All with human faces.  
But only in common with the selfish

devils that betrayed.  
They are checkpoints of the fade.

All its creates.  
So far down,  
that the water dissipates.  
It's no longer an ocean of heavy-black-tar.

A horizon of dark  
complimented with a thick,

pervasive mist.  
To greet my traumatic creations

of mutated fictitious bliss.

I dissociate, dawning a blank daze.  
Talking to my real fictitious friends.

Their beauty rots and I,

Become an ink-blot.

Like Damien the ancient green Dragon.  
With a muddy long green beard

Always resting on the floor, all matted.  
His eyes all popped and his pupils

dart around like lightning bolts,

all jagged.

With human facial characteristics

With lips cracked,

fashioned from archaic old stone, his skin is all ragged.

When he speaks rocks fall in his beard.

Lost like his stolen home.

I'm empathetic of this beautiful,

archaic Dragon.

Always and only appearing through

Windows.  
His voice trembled the notes of doom.

One word and flowers would wilt,

like the weeping, wailing willows.

Though its contents reverberated an

archaic kindness.

His shadow titanic, looms.

I can see that Damien is the wisest.

The tantalizing fire he sprays, in a

fume.

Not a dangerous fire breather in which

hate confided.

Damien felt that soon,

he'd meet his own doom.

He's lived 23,000 years.

He has dreams of a tower,

his glance stares back,  
Is trauma what defines?

I was always so terrified of the

black-

-tar, barbed wires and grime.

Reverberating laughs  
Causing me to detach.  
Disassociate all-the-while

it continues to latch.

In fact,

It would always start with his laugh.

A comment like a cold wind

that feels like nails picking off scabs.

"They're just being nice"

"You're too shy"

"Shut the fuck up its pointless"

"You're wailing betwixt a rusted vice."

But after years,

Of get over yourselves.

You only make your own twisted hells.

Believing in only your nightmares that

you only delve.

True love smears like wasted lip

gloss.  
Our story is like the legend of

Mothra.

Once a villain.

In a defining minute,  
Went back on all of this.  
Simply, being defeated.

At her lowest point.

She saw the light  
Flapped her wings as her eyes swelled.

To be an ally for whenever Godzilla

deems it fit.

The prophecy you fashioned and you can

never quell.

Oh, well.

So I took it full force.

No matter how many nights,

Weeks, and months.  
I rotted away in that box.

Eventually cardboard routine garage.

Oh, I yelled.

Talking to my selves.

Oh, well.  
Oh, well

well

well

WELL

Smashed my bones,

Talked to myself.

Let the darkness personify its own

home.  
I Created seven foreign hells,  
Seven characters before I knew their

names,  
Like dusty books on the shelf.  
My head was light  
My heart was heavy in the darkness I

felt.

Characters and shadows that at first

made me contort.

Like a Wrigley worm picked up by that

biological stork.  
Dropped in a storm.  
Plummeting with cut chords.

Plastic abusive romance had us

blinded.

The thing I obsessed of the only thing

I confided.  
So in an illogical reality.  
I was wasted, traumatized and blinded.

The stage is set.

Romance is the only regret.  
Wasted time and I fly in barely able

to catch myself like an out of control

jet.

Thrown out of a portal,   
like a slap stick jest.

Seven lights

a play is waiting for

me.

There's only one seat.  
It's marked king  
Plastered in serene velveteen.  
Before I can even breathe.  
I hear his familiar voice shriek.

YOU'RE LATE.

CUE THE LIGHTS.  
ITS ALL FOR YOU, YOU SLAG,  
THE ONCE ENEMIES ARE NOW THE REASON

YOU SHINE AND STAND.

You're late,  
You're late.  
Some king  
Some king,  
Let the play begin.  
Let the dark rise.  
The prophetic rights.  
The Grandiosity is imminent.

The beauty in burning corpses as

torches.

Romance and true friends are madness;  
This is what happens.  
The beauty in tragedy.  
A mystical, extravagant, ever-

expanding galaxy.

A dark mist basks the stage.

As the light settles dim & fades,  
One spot light shines, glimmers in its

outline.

Footsteps trace,  
A grandiose ego,  
Free from the clutches of rape,  
"Dudley" is his name.

We look identical and practically the same.

The same exact height,

Although his posture makes him taller  
it's intimidating and attractive.  
Like a missing biological father.  
Mind's spinning, no time left to be relaxing.

It makes you cold and afraid.  
His wicked galactic gaze.

A true maniac display.  
Starburst eyes shouting to be saved.

He's got crow's feet like he hasn't

slept for days.

Or perhaps an entire age.

A black pinstripe silk blazer,  
Black dress pants and shiny black

shoes, perfectly laced.  
A gaze that penetrates.

His eyes are like planets that revolve

but always stay.

Exploding stars that are only two feet

away.

As if your soul is being examined, and

his pupils are ready to dilate.

With open hands.

A wryly grin,  
With a boom

He begins.

Callooh callay,

Such a wondrous place.

Who cares about past trifles.  
When this place is a swelling bible.

Pacing around with the confidence

minus the shame.  
Waving his hands  
As the stalking mist only compliments

his luminescent skin.  
The madness is happiness.  
I'm your number one fan my liege.

Can't you just feel the beauty this

place spawns it.

I'm here to stay, my king.

At times I may be mean,  
It's just some tough love with

A point screaming in the sting.

You love me and that's all I need.  
We will conquer everything.

You changed  
You survived.  
All because of me,  
now.   
Strive,  
Callooh callay,  
Accept your beautiful warped mind.

Fight the lingering ghostly heart-

breakers, and those constricting

pedophilic binds.

For I'm inevitably here to stay.

I'm the grandiose passion,  
Everything you will become.

If you just embrace the madness.

With a laughing bow, he fades.

The next spot light flickers.  
Like snow in the winter.

Dividing like a penetrating glass

splinter.

Two lights Grace The stage.  
Scarlett Rose and Margot.

Polar opposites with the same body

frame.

Scarlet is a brunette.  
Margot is a blond carrying around a

stone heart full of regret.

But their chemistry radiates bright as

flames.  
They both wear the same red dress.  
Two bombshell dames,  
Smelling of lilacs and sunsets.

With no man, have they ever laid.

Although, many have obsessed.

They're proud of their ways,

Scarlett rejects all emotion.  
While Margot is a tidal wave.

Some speculate, Margot is just under

the influence of a ghastly potion.  
They always have got something to say.

They're both wondrous souls, well

aware of the power a woman has to enslave.  
It disgusts them,  
It makes them both hack and rend.

They always know why those wenches did

what they did.  
Who they could've been,

And show me I'm not at fault  
No matter the guilt, I'm not to pay

for their sins.

It's never the end,  
For they wouldn't so eloquently exist.

Two broads, I'll always invite and

confide in.

No matter how deep I am in the gallows

or the dreadful pits.

They both light cigarettes.

As the light flickers Like I finally

confessed  
As the next spot light flashes a dark

red.

It's rusty savage  
The holy emperor of damage.  
The Lord of suffering  
Mutilation and the dread.  
He's heaving, and dripping spit and

usually guttural  
But tonight on this stage, he has a

few words to say.

His knees are shaking

Flies complete his stench of death.  
Circling in unison,  
while an onyx cube hides his head.  
There's barbed wire coiled around his

figure,  
like a metallic snake dress.

He's prepared a speech to accumulate

all of his rage.  
And his need to slash, burn, and

stare into your soft gaze.  
As you drift and the blood stains.

Your vision like the sexual assault

that touched boys and lost golden rights.

He's hardly even four foot nine.  
The personification of all I tried to hide.

Those visions of blood and death.  
He is the one that craves

To stab and hit,

Choking them all till they've had

their last breath.

He finds a beauty in ashen-lips.

I never got to hear what she said.

Running away.

Now the rage, replaces your swaying

hips.

His shrieks.

Echo through my fists.

Visions of hate flood

Memories are endless.  
The fire burns like it always does.

Oh, yes.

It's only a matter of time before the

ill fuck-up.

Tears make the dry blood that lines

his neck,

Trickle a bright burning ruby red.

He may start all the fist fights,  
And make me see how to intricately

scar you and make your wife.  
Reel back in such beautiful fright.

Like way back when  
I was a regular Dylan Klebold

obsessed with Columbine

And death.  
Society killed the teenager

Aren't I right.

He goes silent,  
Clenched fists like a titan.  
Who fell from Olympus with just a

flick of Zeus's light.

Rusty savage,  
We'll knock you down and raise our glasses,  
Clapping as I'm standing.  
With a toast in spilling chalices.  
The holy emperor of damage,

The face-melter of plastic.

As his blood stains the stage,  
He bows as his barbed wired, clanks

and clangs.  
The red light fades.  
There's a silence as Dudley shouts

"EVERYBODY CAN IT."

The spot light shines.

With an overwhelming smoke,  
You could swear it was funneling from a dragon's Heated throat.

It's Rick, the brick.  
The impenetrable bloke.  
He makes a motion, puffing his

cigarette.  
The color of the light transcends to a

dark blue

Giving a thumbs up and a wink to

Dudley,

He throws his eccentric hands up in a

jest.

Pops his leather collar,

Rick never had a father, so he dawns

a blue jacket that he stole when he

left his home and it only got harder.  
Just as the bags under his eyes got

darker.

He's got some slick black jeans.  
And some sleek red sneaks,  
to always dance to James's beats.  
Always smoking a cigarette, he is the

stone facade.

all I've got,   
a beauty in the tragedy mixed in with

some inkblots.

As abandonment never stops.   
Rick is everything, my little mind has

lost.

"Don't sit there all upset"

"Forget about it!"

"I'm here to make sure you never cry"

"about another woman that left,"

"they were mooks!"

"Wastes of time"  
"What's next?"

"a horse's head at the foot of your bed?"

"Thanks for the opportunity."

"You sad bitch you."  
"Stand up and puff your chest,"  
"Give them something to respect."  
"They're all just selfish gooks."  
"Waste any more time and you will be"

"the only one to lose,"  
"and the last thing you need is more"

"regret, eh?"

"So forget about it."

"Don't start doubting,"

"I'll give you some backbone."  
"And stick those guns up"

"if disrespect comes Your way."

"You won't become encased in a shroud."

"Or fade out."

"You exist in the now."

"You figure it out,"  
"thanks to my advice."  
"Like a tiger,"

"You'll punch them in the mouth."

"Forget about it!"

"Because of me."  
"No longer will another soul consider"

"you a mouse."  
"They'll burn before they figure you"

"out."

"Like some charging bull that's about"

"to destroy their house."

"You know where to find me standing in"

"the shadows of the tavern."

"So whenever it's dark"

"and caving in like a cavern."

"I'll help you figure it out."

He takes a bow.

Ashing the cigarette he forgot about.

Only Dudley knows how.

There's only darkness around.  
Suddenly,

lightning strikes down.  
As sparks almost jump into my little

dry mouth.

A spot light shines.  
As smoke flutters.

Giving character to the stage,  
and a fading echoing thunderous sound.  
There stands Shawn the shaman now.  
The next creation of the fade.  
A new mystical face.  
The one who buried Pete into the

ground  
When he and I we're the first ones who

found out.

He's such a silly sort  
But the mystical magic source.  
When things get dark he lights up the

sky like some godly force.  
With spells and blinding lightning bolts.

Chattering bones, and cackling like

the glistening blade of a sword.

Because of him.

Pete was buried in a whim.  
Shawn arrived just when the dark

seemed imminent.  
He gave us closure

With his electric fingers.  
And summoned muses and singers.  
With his telekinesis,

Buried him with secrets.  
And I only said a few words.

We're all lonely.  
When one takes his own life It's the

worst.  
So I flick my fingers,

And in these last seconds transcend

his astral corpse,

with a charring burn.

Only by chance I arrived.  
As his bones click and clack.  
Chattering upon his decaying body of a

rack.  
His dark sockets have ruby eyes that

shine.  
Like jewels of magic might.

Ha-ha, a bone misplaced falls off his

back,

He picks it up and waves it around

As mysticism creates a shroud.  
Riddled with an ink that's black.  
A story formed with smoke and clouds.

How could a skeleton be so beautiful

now.

When memories start repeating and so

comes delusional thinking.  
Electric jolts out his fingers.  
All I can see his chattering teeth,  
He tells me these thoughts are devil's

penetrating the beautiful ether.

They were all sluts,   
yes they abused the trust,  
but they could never muster up much.  
Leaving you for lust  
Oh such funny stuff.  
So let's go eat some lime-crows for

lunch.

It's kind of like your wasted

relationships.  
The inevitable crunch.  
For when everything overwhelming.  
Racing thoughts, hearing Dudley's

laugh.

And you're just about ready to burst.  
let my magic guide the hunch.  
Focus on my voice, the past is the

worst.  
You walked through fires and felt its

burns.

You're our king.  
Of the golden sun and the brink.  
Hold on and don't sink.  
My magic and their presence.  
Will sort out the chaos and let you

think.

Thank you for this opportunity my

glorious golden liege.

Shawn the shaman fades with a gleam.

I clap, with shining tears.  
As he appears right next to me.  
With his chattering teeth,  
And seething magically energy.

So the light fades,

With a blink of blinding light.

So the last character shines.  
The stage is dark.  
Then it blinds.  
I squint my eyes.

Shouting.

WHERE'S THE REST OF THIS GUY.

No laughs are had, everybody stares back.  
In a dead guise, dawning skin of a pasty white.

Tip tap.

Tippy tap tap.

A pair of shadowy feet.  
Taps to a new beat.  
As drums go off in the back.  
And they all join in  
A harmonious choir of brass.

He's got googley eyes on his laces of

Frozen shoe strings.  
He's fashioned from darkness.  
Seething a foreign lingering blackness

that seethes.

He always starts the beat, to the

Beautiful songs we sing.  
In the tavern, no matter the mood or

The defeat.  
Or the memories that lead me back to

Sinking deep.  
Destined to be the king of the brink.

Who owns all of the sun and flames it

brings.

Tip tap.

Tippy tap tap.

He's the reasons I always have these

beats hidden in my head.  
Products of the Dread.  
All the little things romance never

said.  
How I was so close, but with no

options how can there be regret.

Get over yourself, and let the music

Heal the bitterness instead.

the ones who always left.

Or the bridges you burn,  
Or had burned.  
So you only feel hate in the rain.  
With sour days,  
And misplaced disdain.  
For self-hatred and destruction,  
how many missed chanced turn to

Flames.

Tip tap  
Tippy tap tap.

The child like demeanor.  
Delusional grandeur,  
I'm the reason for the euphoria in

this ether,  
I keep it altogether,  
Just like the drum beat in a song.  
It follows the leader.  
Tippy tap tap, the audible emotion

feeler.

James may not be a speaker.  
But he's a beautiful shadow.  
And a god damn mystical leader.

Through dance and art,  
making us all feel the feelings.  
We once forgot on that one night,  
When we were promised the earth and

ALL ITS CREATURES.

Tip tap.

Tip Tip tap.  
Tap.  
Tap.

Tap.

The light dissipates, as James fades.

With a tear full of fractals

Containing all my mistakes.  
And all his music has healed and made

Me see.  
And feel again.  
In-between colossal frightening and

Terrible electric devilish eels.

Darkness is the stage,  
An awkward silence.  
And a cough misplaced.  
Echoing through outer space.

Down drops a plastic sun.  
Ferociously hot like all the ways,

romance frantically runs.  
Like a Retard convinced he can rob a

Store with a plastic gun.

It's all in traumatic fun.

Hah, I hear him laugh.

As the stage shines,

And confetti hit with a splash.

He makes a fist towards the sky,  
and points at me like I've got all

These facts.

The most important man in black.

Confused, my lips retract.

Hahaha, and that's that.

My liege,

My king!  
Thank you for our story,

Finally!

Sharing our shining grandiose glory.  
You took so long.  
But I forgive You.

The attention makes us beautiful,  
and you are crucial.

"SO COMES A CLOSE."

"NOW YOU KNOW US, DISGUSTING DOLTS."

Dudley shines on the stage as he claps

To himself and dances around like it's

Truly,

the end of his own show.

All seven stand proud of their

Existence and this world they've come to know.

You are our golden king.

Conqueror of the sun.  
And all the flames it brings.

The light in the darkness.  
The products of trauma betwixt an

Erratic sea.

Welcome to the Abyss.  
We are the creations of the brink.  
Where heartbreak and sexual trauma,

make such beautiful fictitious things.  
In the madness, there is a grandiose

way.

So now that you have had a listen.  
Maybe this is my peace from those Jack

The ripper eyes.  
Or maybe chaos is waiting around the

bend,

waiting to unwind.  
Well whatever I've got seven-guardians

Protecting my mind.

My closure for long lost things.  
The ending to a seemingly incessant mission,

I hopelessly confide.  
Well.  
This wishing well is never ending.

And figments always find a way inside.

Never ending stories,

like a bottomless portal that's always

beginning, at least I'm never boring.

Seven hells I look to like heavens,

Some pseudo-intellectual retreat.  
My beautiful warped dominion,

like mental illness mixed with

overwhelming tragedy.  
These things will never leave.  
So instead of drowning in the defeat.  
And on some nights I may see,

my daughter's face contorting from the

wall,

But I know that's just me.

I found some creative insanity,  
In the madness I can find peace.  
With these seven personas and

self-states.  
I can survive,

I can handle all of the overwhelming,

chaotic,

And unnecessary weight.

They'll always listen and only seven—

times

Out of ten.

Will they blame.

We're so beautiful backwards and bent.

It's irrefutable that our hearts,

always,

break.

So if it's to end in fire,  
then I'll stand in these beautiful—

Mystical, ethereal flames.

Although, they do nothing but

deprecate.

We're all dreadfully ill in some

horrific way.

Golden Floods

When the thought comes.

It rolls in floods.

Drowning anything that was.  
Golden and full of love.

Fretting manic.  
Shaking panic.

Dramatic and all damaged.

You were everything that was.

It's kind of funny,

Idle in the wreckage,

Seeing everything that nature's love

does.

Everything is foul,

murky,

raped,

inevitably crushed.

Irrefutably done.

Tracers & Shadows

72 hours, tracers and shadows.  
Ghosts like prowlers and dark-personas devour.

Turning him to vapor, as he drifts to the gallows.   
The memories are always shallow.

The souls-fire, Screaming like stolen vowels.

Crimson Sea

Like a crimson sea,

complimented with velvet waves.  
With pristine froth like they were culminated from shavings of loss.

of the grandiose blazing lost.

The immense burning ones.

we all wish to be blessed by the sun,

but it's not our right.

Not yet.

We succeed in the clutches of the darkness, molested eyes.

The horrors.

The binds.

The fictitious people.

They are white oval light.

I could never trust.

So I put my faith in—

Demons of lust.

The more I vanish,

the more problems I crush.

I have peace now.

I can just let go.

but even in this,

You're a crimson sea,

with beautiful tides.

Dark.

Deep set eyes.

An artifact in my mind.

Curves that define.

I fantasize in my head,  
Although,

Know,

there's nothing but ghosts and the

dread  
You think that's the culmination of scarlet the brunette in red.

All the beauties, I could never have.

Never had.  
So I watch them rot until I burned the bridge,

And said I'm fucking depressed.

Dudley's hilarious,

and he was right

I'm already dead.  
what's left

Until my corpse is to be remembered.

I confessed.

well not me,

but the fade calls I must create

for that's all I have.

The crimson tides,

Dudley,

Rick,

Habits that insist.

rusty, and

Scarlett the brunette in red.

Madness shows you the problems,

That refuse to quit.

Like the obsessive-haunting memories

that lie dormant in your head.

Read between the lines,

And tears you shall shed.

When all is said and done

You're the only one left.

Binds Part I

Confidence outweighing tragedy.

These things are easier said than

done.

They're usually reversed.

Self-awkward blasphemy.

Self-Loathing mixed with chemicals,

Self-destructive pinnacle

Where did you go.  
Ghost float through the wall.  
but y'know—

I never wanted to waste your time.  
You always seemed to take mine.

The laughter is a convinced sublime.

All that wasted time.

All the confines.

Darkened rooms filled with shrieks and

Bottomless wines.

At a certain point.

You were mine all mine.

With no excuses to find.

We were just two chumps.

Loving, lifeless slumps.

In the wrong life.

Although, that doesn't mean much.

Lust, broken hearts, and regrettable

floods.

You didn't even think twice.

She does what she does.

In your cold demise.

Although you searched for them when--

You felt his binds.

I never wanted to fix all the imperfections.

I just wanted your romantic selection.

In the darkest seas,

You would find perfection.

No one told you, you would be drowning

In a twisted heaven.

Intense outer blessings.

Euphoric I'm guessing.

Well I don't know,

but you've definitely Become seven-headed.

Darling, where is your presence.

You simply vanished with the severance.

Not even an argument to leave us

Beheaded.

So let's go where the sun doesn't shine.

Twisted and warped by your own design.

To those dark corners of the mind.

Inside caves of the darkest kind.

Creatures hiss and whine.

You don't care,

We're on fire.

Still you've got wonderful hair.

Skins reeking black puss, cold

despair.

Intense outer blessings.

Euphoric I'm guessing.

You don't care.

You couldn't wait.

Twisted, cold, & deranged.

You just had to take,

Venomous viper.

Slither away.

Go to jail,

I'm just past ways.

Rides for months.  
Nights full of lust.  
We're just friends today.

Please,

Remind me again why we decided to

Trust.

Line up all of my mistakes.

Claw my skin, stab me with rusted

stakes.

Don't bring them to the front, when they matter.

Just pull them out for your escape,

Just like the looking glass shatters.

Vanishing act,

Behind the velvet curtains

You slipped away.

You couldn't wait.

Or understand.

I just want positivity.

Please take my hand.  
Slap it out of stance.  
No, not a chance.

You're damned.

Man oh man!

I can feel those

Cold-dark-metal-bands.

Off-balanced.

Cosmic Damage.  
Psychotic

Wall-bending—

These voices feel like swarming

Habits.

Cute-children-rotting-on-the-wall

A waking horror film that each

Chapter,

Feels like a disgusting,

New beginning.

Wailing-like-Alice.

A-regular-asshole-did-you-forget-about-the-damage?

I told you I'd wait for you,

At-the-never-ending-glass-palace.

Beyond the lustrous moon.

Tainted-king-drinking-from-the-same-

Dirty-golden-chalice.

Haunted-memories-of-the-same-dirty-

Room.

Galactic eyes.

Imprinted in a golden prize.

Crafted from the divine.  
Steal his golden right,

Sacred demise.

It's not his fight.

You deserved it,

You know that right?

Same name,

New blight.

Shut up...

Just like your father.

Missing since the beginning of time.  
Shut up...  
His own binds.

Are you still talking?...
Binds Part II

Look it stopped raining.  
Kind of like when you left.

Everything started weighing.  
No time left.

That you could be saving.

Crippling whispers and now he's

fading.

How I kept running.

From all the things my selves were

debating.

Boy oh boy!

Do they get frustrating.  
From endless waiting.

Dripping from the conversation.

Some self-awkward shame.

That I really shouldn't feel.

Although, I guess it's inevitable to say,

I like it this way.

Shuffle his feet onward toward isolation.  
It's only you and the darkened

tendrils in the brain.  
The shadows that incessantly remain.

Void of all that, on another plane,

stress comes in leaking stacks.

Reverberating laughs, darkest corners

of space.

Walk four miles while digging his own

grave.

Some psychotic thing that blames.  
Chemical reactions lined with disdain,

All the frail glass scattered

throughout his darkened astro-plane.

Millions of things to say,

Scribble the confessions and light the

way.

Survive the portals of self-blame, and

psychological stains.

Dividing as he creates.

Perfect vessel, endless flame.

Endure the flash-backs,

and the hurricanes.  
Well until wasted time catches up.

Isolation takes,

and the winds starts to gust stuff.

Whispering that familiar

child-bound lust.

He could sail the moon with his blood.  
If only he could tear down the walls

and trust.  
Why would she care what he does?

Shut up.

You always wasted my time.

Although since the start of the dark,

I've never got mine.

So they bring in ghosts for dinner.

Which are all of my past splendors.

They all gaze beautifully.

With a hateful hinder.

That latches on.

Until I surrender.

Lost in their spiteful conversations.

Though they are devils.

They happen to be my menders.

To remind me so I'll always remember.

When the walls breathe.

I make notes

On how it's a sign.

It's getting close to December.

Inevitable cold divide.

Surrounded by ghosts that inevitably

shriek and whine.

They yell as we choke,

spitting the words.

"SAVE YOUR WARNINGS"

"FOR SOMEONE WHO ISN'T BROKE"

"CUT THE STRINGS—CUT THE ROPE"

"WITHOUT THEM YES, YOU'RE DEPLETED OF HOPE"

"ASK YOURSELF THIS:"

"DID YOU EVER REALLY LEARN TO COPE?"

"THERE'S A REASON I STOP TIME"

"AND SHOW YOU HOW TO SURVIVE ON YOUR OWN."

"I YOUR TOXIC CLONE."
Wild Fire

Remember Winter.

All the steeples you crushed under

your finger.

After a while, they're all just silly

people.

Numbers, you count in the after-math

of your evil.

Selfish, heart-eater.

A succubus lurks in his minds ether.

Tying me down to the things she's

stealing.

You goddamn lustful demon.

You don't need a reason.

Just a heart to be eating,

Make him suffer, as you're leaving.

Well I don't live in a nightmare

anymore.

Get out of my scope.

You don't deserve my gaze,

My electric touch,

or the words I scribble

like desperate notes.

She knows,

but she needs a wild-fire.  
Pathological liar.

Gusts of winds,

she stands in the middle of

all the bullshit.

Graciously teasing.

All the things you lost since this.

Fucking succubus.

Haunts your mental rifts.

Leaving again and again.  
What's to stop you?

I fell for you like an idiot for

years,

Every night,

I wipe pathetic tears.

That come in bursts, like he feared.

Seeing his death,

He wipes away the smears.

Dastardly, crafting the hurt for

years.

A master plan, to make him obsess, and

then she left.

To deal with the worse kind of fucking

jest.

Well I'm dead

I'm ashamed

but I know.

Your psychotic ways.

Are insane,

I need some real soul,

not begging,

pleading

and always the one to save.

Get out of my mind.

Wrapping me in black wires.

You wild-fire.

The Meat Shop

Dudley has taken up ownership of the

local meat chop shop.

using the bodies of the rotten souls as hidden pasts

almost forgotten wrongs.

the horrors in their faces.  
as he puts them on display in glass cases.  
with melting wax eyes, their heads in

vases made of feet.  
some art of mutilated meat.

Standing on the counter.  
singing out of key.

"Oh, look at me."

"Look at these disgusting souls,"

"now they're treats!"

"their heart was once gold,"

"promises only go ten-folds."

"Now it's a rotting black-hole."

"oh, oh,"

"I remember when we were gold,"

"at six."

"six years old!"

"Look at the beauty in tragedy."

"All those wasted woes."

"Such a blasphemy."

"Oh, oh."

"Chomp on their bones."

"It's disgusting like the trust,"

"You would so gullibly hold."

"That's just the way it goes."

"It's already nine."

"Time sure flies when your lost."

"Floating in your own mind,"  
"descending falling to your death,"

"It's got rusted spikes,"

"filled with poison,"

"and on its pointed edges,"

"shares her stupid eyes."

I feel the darkness,

but suddenly,

a new scene plays.

A character grows,

and I forget why

I was even upset

in the first place,

Dudley you swell,

crafty apparition of a guy. 
Psychosis # 1

I'm in a pitch black room, no doors,

no windows.

Merely an old weathered table & bar.

There's a swarming audible of mindless

chatter,

that are indistinct.

Several people,

like Rick with his black leather

jacket.

With a pentagram zipper,

tattered skinny jeans.

Rusty,

with his obsidian cage that

holds a section of bars and eye slot,

his charred and muscular body is

wrapped in barbed-wire.

That slowly,

drips a staining,

acidic black tar,

as he heaves and grunts.

Scarlett, with her frilly pink dress

with a bow to match.

Dawning bright red lipstick

like you'd see in an Orson Welles movie,

with a smile that feels all fiery

and apocalyptic.

Her slender forearms

wrapped around her one and only

Margot,

who is identical to her,

but don't let them catch you say they're related.  
Lest you be lying on the ground,

Bashed and faceless.

The life of the party Dudley.

He stands there as my clone, but he

glows.

All animated & funny.

A pinstripe jacket,

with a V-neck beneath.

He glares like a wolf,

There's a cold darkness he seethes.

A regular Beowulf,

Who lies as he speaks.

As he talks to everyone laughing,

I slowly fade and their hands are

sweaty.

They start grabbing,

Like the way she left me.

I can't forget about James,

Who's merely a pair of shadowy feet.

With two googly eyeballs with furry

slanted eyebrows

that move to his rhythm.

No one else is allowed here;

we are the mystical council of the abyss.

It's a glorious gathering.  
Wine is being spilled.

Ale is being chugged.

Songs are being sung.

Tales are being told.

Rusty savage wanted to be irate.

Dudley frog punched him, the obsidian

cage that masks his face.

Dented and crunched.

Scarlet began pulling him off.

As we all chanted a song in unison.

Holding hands.

Afraid we might lose him.

"Rusty savage!"

"Holy emperor of damage."

"Raise the chalice."

"Raise those glasses."

"We all, can't handle it."

"Together we will all dismantle it."

"AGAIN!"

"FOR THE DAMSELS!"

Scarlett is a dark beauty.

The strongest woman I know.

She gives no man her affection,

no woman either.

I wish I could be like her.  
Ricks got an accent.

Dudley of course

is telling stories by the fire,

scaring the day lights out of us.

Standing up waving his hands acting everything out,

how he once knew a weak man

but through his own horrors

he became a strong victor.

The one who lit the world's fires.

Everyone's eyes are attentive and

bright.

As if he suddenly spawned a stage,

creating insight.

Dudley,

Everyone wants to be.  
Scarlett secretly wants him for her own.

In mid-sentence Dudley

snaps his fingers,

with a peculiarly loud clack.

That echoes and reverberates.

As all of their shadows form into one,

mutating.

I involuntary inhaled them and in a

snap,

A vessel that's self-deprecating.

It only retracts.

A burst of white light,

followed by a malicious,

and callous whisper saying:

"It's that time again."

Following it's echoing reverberation

Hours of terrifying hysteria,

finally, I stop the retaliation.

In the depths when there is finally

A certain silence,

there's an undeniable revelation.

It's lovely here,

although, the party has ended.

My Muse

You're my muse.

Although I always have the choice to choose.

Five years and the binds have got me

loose.

You're my muse, and I've got nothing

left to lose.

There's a certain beauty in the noose.

The constricting beauty of everything

you abused.

All The Same

All the same

Intricately lighting the flames.

Burning bridges

Where's the hate?

In the evidence of your own blame.

I see the darkness and his cackles

light the way.

His existence,

undeniable and an incessant riddance.

I can't get rid of-

The electric sentence.

I see your face.

I can't find you in this place.

No need to erase.

For the haunting never ceases in your

gaze.

Those lightning eyes,

which I still pray,

to your grace.

The lightning bolt of your face.

Strikes as it takes.

Or tames...

What's the difference when you're

always conversing to him.

Letting everybody else in.

But him.

The split persona who exists in the

flames.

Your soft skin, afraid of the love

that grins.

Afraid of all the things you said

you'd give.

Where is your bliss.

Where have you been.

Lost in a man who counts you as he

lists.

The big break up.

Call it the shakeup.

I always loved your make-up.

The way it ran,

during this big break-up.

But I'd never know.

The way things go.

You always go.

Like things leave.

You laugh as you heave.

In the middle of grief.

I think I understand.

Then again, like a burnt leaf.

All charred and nothing left.

Well, well, my darling.

Where is the kingdom to siege.

A failed raid and I'm toxic,

So I watch you leave.

The most beautiful thing,

It seems.

The only true thing,

you wore on your sleeves.

The only truth,

that speaks as it breathes.

In my bed, in songs, visions of violence,

Reek a past lining your sheets

What does it mean.

You're not there.

Clenching what you could not keep.

This I cannot bare.

I'm afraid.

Of love.

after all,

when I first did,

I was touched.

I'm afraid I'm too deep.

In a memory.

At least you're away from me,

you can finally sleep.

While I, watched you leave.

Leave is what I can't.

It seems.

In the middle of the brink.

I escaped your haunting,

heavy feelings correlate as they

blink.

A mind of their own.

A mind of their own,

and it's never true.

Because you,

I never owned.

It's all the same

I'm used to the abuse.

Like you said,

I create the nightmare

that rots my brain.

A corpse,

Can only walk so far before they decay...
Separate

It's hard to sever the heads off of a

colossal snake.

Shifting its blood just that it can take.

Regenerating

while it's being slain.

Its resistance increases as it

multiplies

from the slice of a blade.

Only if evil is slain,

does it fade away.

It takes All the hits,

Even those that should have it sliced

to bits.

Slithering away only to be stomped

into the abyss.

Even the ones that gleefully

penetrate,

Well we always say ignorance is bliss.

Like the levitation of delusional

grandeur,

an impenetrable tool of creation;

The magic of traumas gift.

No one said it was easy.  
Manic depression is:

having the patience to climb a mountain all day.  
And upon its marble steps, light the

world's flame.  
All the while battling terrible

spiders and snakes,

who lie an always try to  
make.  
Quick-deals-with-the-devil-in-a-

plastic-cape.

I'm throwing up everywhere I wish we

would've been,

The ideal way you see your wife,

in the flash of a haze.

With the lilac scent that resonated

from her nape.

She must have bathed in gooseberries,

for her hand must be my fate.

Then why burn the bridge?

Like a tyke claiming to be a misfit.

A damaged psyche rapes the bliss.

And I can't take it.

Into the abyss,

we have faded.

Although,

if I'm sure of anything

it's that I can break it.

Autopilot has emotions delaying,

with all the visions of spiders,

chattering and everything concaving.

In reality,

only the silence he can claim as his.

Or his thoughts that swirl into

obsessive wishes.

All because he can miss it.

Traumas become new characters in the

beautiful abyss.

A thousand words circle like stars of

options and he can't even say it.

It's FAR too loud.

The devils have him slaving over this.

A clattering chaos in the mix,

which one of these personas can he

call his.

Piercing voices,

the nine self-states,

That take him on wild adventures

OSCILLATING DOOM IN THIS KINGDOM HE

CLAIMS AS HIS

their cackling, judging and convincing

him she's just like the rest.

Broadcasting delusional thoughts as

vigorously as a spider lays its eggs.

the harpy's waiting to sink her claws

into your little chest.

Talking to shadows like he hasn't had

a best-friend.

One whom has the will of a god

no matter the extremity,

Or depravity of the sins.

For 10 years,

and he never called it quits.

Even in the insanity

he couldn't bare to call it the end.  
An Xbox magazine.

Taking a chance whether or not he

gives a shit.

Low and behold the stars aligned I

knew ever since then.

That we'd make the world happy with

our creative minds blessed with

heavy grips,

and repeated tragedy.

Creating fantasy.  
Whilst we were both unable to handle,

the reality;

Of heart-breaks swelling insanity,

coating apathy with misguided,

delusional vanity.

With every failed strategy;

We rearranged our psyche;

Building a new mental anatomy.

We're a pair of regular doctor

Frankenstein's

Twin corpses,

rising from the ashes.

Crafted in impeccable design.

Captured by two prophets in disguise.

By two souls with double the grandiose

mind.

Molding a perpetual ever expanding

galaxy,

with our creations the stars

always

align.

We are the evolving fantasy happening.  
We are the last of the shadow puppets.  
And my friends we're always dancing.

Separate.

It's confusing on this side.  
She was ideal in my eyes.

We must be addicted,

the suffering of a cruel plastic—

guise.

Ultimatums.

Well,

at least they give us a surprise.

She was ideal in our eyes.

But I'm up until dawn,

talking to illusory moths.

Talking to Dudley,

sitting at a table in the tavern.

Then it hits me like an unidentified

flying guilt-trip,

reversed to bitter-spite.

Painted in a blinding-white.

I had no idea my galactic eyes,  
Were flooded caverns.

Infested with behemoth spiders,

eyes of a glowing amber.

Realizing they're being fed sorrows.

A creeping monstrous presence

in my mind.

I can't avert my eyes.

So the spiders pluck them out,

with all of the blood loss,

as they chatter in the shadows

muttering their deceitful talk.

It's safe to say.  
I've already died.

The spider's now dawn a pair of human

eyes,

that were once mine.

What we once owned,

has no value when

it's only a memory in your mind.

Left with only fractals of pictures,

like a slowly disintegrating fragment

of time.

Just underneath their embedded

all seeing eye.

They tell me of this,

all while they devour my insides.

Their gaze of gloom,

but I've already died,  
As the scene ends.

It begins to rewind.

Meeting the lady in red

at the wrong time.

Oh yes, the darkness waves

As I hear the laughs wind.

Nothing is as somber as a perfect

mistake.

Well we must suffer to create.

We must sacrifice the thing called

"romance."

So that the delusional grandeur

blesses our fate.

The first pleasant presence,

and all I've got is damaging

severance.

I'll be ransacking her for evidence,

so it's better that I've left it.

For years I prayed in isolation.

For romance and its grandiose

levitation.

Until Romantic trauma,

repeated itself until insane rambling

poetry,

Is all I claimed in isolation.

Flooding the emotion and mending the

pain.

Hearts always tend to break,

so we only give what we can take.

When they snap is when they begin

to shift and rearrange.

That's when you see yourself staring

back in the flames.

Analyzing all of what you became.

Unable to recognize the shadow of

yourself in the fade.

Starting fights

and always losing to the illogical

self-projection,

that you spit all the while—

pushing them into the back of the

fray.

Only remnants of evil conquests,

mutated as horrific stains,

until they create;

A new character,

or monster.

That haunts or graces

My meager existence.

While I drop out into the

haze.

Gazing into the abyss,

It won't glance.

But personify, and talk right on back.

As if suddenly I've got claws, and I.

Can slash.

Creating characters

so real you

wonder what the point of

even existing here is.

Staring blank in a garage for years,

filled with smoke.

Smashed bones,

And my flesh and blood.

Well that's another tale of woes.

Until a world was created through

writing.

Dropping out to figure out the real

world

Talking to Dudley and watching him

dance with sharp swords.

Forced to see myself die by his hands

23,000 different times.

A forceful tortuous grind.

six-hour shifts to see how you

let yourself be defined.

Barbed wire, pools of black tar.

Transcendence from suffering

in a vice.

Only in the darkness

will you find the oval light.

Only telling him to disperse, Shouting

at the walls,

Telling him he only makes it worse.

For so long he was the evil enemy,

the apparition I was so afraid of

like he was the one who made me crazy.

Though we've become one in the same

Lately.

Ignorant to my own madness so he had

to slay me

In the raining hell-fires

of the tragedy.

Of an unending catastrophe.

Unintentionally I created a defense-

Mechanism,

a split-personality.

All my obsessions,

fears,

and traumas.

Molded into a faded reality.

Although I couldn't stop fading.

Drinking, and watching friends leave

one by one,

they all dissipated into the melting—

plastic sun.

Being used and abused by the most

cynical ladies.

You can't control what you've lost and

what you've won.

You're not alone in this,

so don't burn the world.

Get up and show the world everything

you're creating.

Art is mending;

All kinds of saving;

Paint your name in the stars

go ahead they're waiting;

They're all yours for the taking.

I feel spiders crawling.

They're whispering something about

"a snake only moves slow if it's got you"

She was ideal.

Yea,

well so is a spider's encroaching

evil.

It's just us in the beautiful abyss.

Though it's somber.

I can see her in my mind until the

end.

Though I'm staring fearless at a

behemoth of a spider,

I know she wasn't a sniper...

My mind has not mended from those

deception cravers;

Those seducing vipers.

The way spiders crawl inside.

A wriggling churning thing that

divides.

Lost staring into it's darkened,

but glowing amber eyes.

Into creation I dive.

I know nothing of fear,

False Evidence Appearing Real.

The definition of all that linger,

spider's and other horrors in my

mind.

I accept the swelling demons that

reside.

In creativity I mend,

and I strive.

These soliloquies come with the

transcendence of grandiose rights.

Let this be a note; Even the most

damaged and frail

can walk through the gates of hell.

No matter how many accursed lightning

blue eyes convince you to dwell and delve.

The regret has no value,

you're better off listening to your

friends that know you so well.

No one can afford time

or wasted youth

no man,

woman,

or home-wrecker

that only comes in to knock around the

shelves.

Sadness: A Warning

Be careful with sadness,

for ignoring its pulsing nature

can only lead to madness.

You'll find years have passed

What once made you sad is now,

recessed rage.

You will undoubtedly find it difficult

trying to remember when it all

happened.

The only thing that seems to seal the

deal

is the lack of your friend's voices,

and the boiling pain.

Your problems don't care about your

life;

If you don't dig at their roots,

you'll find people leave to soon.

Though few remain true.

You will find yourself losing friends

just like you've lost time.

Hear my words.

They are not pointless vibrations of

blurs.

Don't let yourself become toxic; the

worst.

At least not until you burst,

Take a load off,

no single-man can handle the weight of  
the earth.

Don't lead your friends into the fire,

don't let them burn.

Take it from the toxic, the absolute

WORST.
The First Christmas

Since You Have Been Lost

I'll tell you why I go

Oscillating as his ego gloats.

He's got specters molesting his throat.

Those cackles reverberate Audibles and

visuals, like he can see times flow.

Even the dead up and leave.

Even the dead betray as they sleep.

Even the dead make mistakes and grieve.

After all, half a mortal with the

penetrating light of a god,

Down that vortex

Down that portal.

If there's one thing we've never

known.

It's the definition of normal.

Even the dead ramble, trust me I know.

Your poor soul.

My sweet prince.

I never knew how to loathe.

Can't trust a soul,

They created these mending grips.

How I've rebelled in its splendor ever

since.

After the inevitably of being

comfortable in the clatter.

All that matters are the flames

that rise, and the vibrations

that stretch off of his lips.

The moaning moon that shares his eyes,

Stealing his.

Trauma never subsides,

we're only a victim if we decide.

Then why have I lost so many.

Taking their own life.

This universe of psychosis is back,

The irrefutable fact

That these fictional beings

are the most believable people

I've ever known.

So the waves of chaos attack;

Nine personalities chime in and laugh.

No one told me when I was six,

emotions,

would be just so god-damned hard to grasp.

Spilling ale and knocking against the glass.

Josh stop that.

We all pick-up heroin to forget the

past.

God rest all of your souls,

I just want you back.

Being touched at six-years-old.

It's nothing, and still I ask myself

underneath this cold sky.

Where are you and why.

Fuck my girlfriend,

but of all things why betray me

that way, why did you have to die?

The clock ticks,

"Betray",

Take my eyes,

For I,

Am a feeble creature.

And death?

It's the cruelest,

inevitable, irrefutable, undeniable, unpassable,

unfathomable— Teacher.

Turning us all into weepers.

Take my eyes and slay me like Caesar.

You promised, you were getting better.

That it was getting easier.

Josh is at it again.

The voices oscillate,

How the fuck am I these figments

LEADER?!

They tell me in unison.

"Those fools know nothing,"

"of the horrors that grasp,"

"That take you by the hand"

"and say we're the best of friends,"

"that a loser has ever had."

"I'm all you have,"

"So let me have my way with you."

"It's what friend do."

As Jack the Ripper smiles stretch,

the horror of the past.

His cackling laughs

send us the message that madness is in effect.

Molested & erect.

He does nothing but touch and grab.

All their faces.

They're burning me alive,

This world is tipsy turvy and shaken.

They claw their skin to the bone,

They're all wasted.

I want to die, but then I want to maim—everyone who refused the time.

But not before floods poor out,

I'm a disgusting rotting piece of flesh

betwixt the pinnacle of the shroud.

All we can hear is the waves of

laughter,

I try to argue but the room keeps

spinning faster.

In the moaning silence, the calm just

after

A raging scream, there is no

difference.

The unison marks the transition.

To be free, you must crave the clatter

of

the chaos, all it takes is admittance.
Dome-Wyrd (Doomed Fate)

Oh, Dome-Wyrd.

Oh, self-states.

you lose us to the illogical and the

absurd.  
The star falling across the distance

of the plains.  
I hear it whistle, as I see it's

words.

"this is your fate"

purple and violet it intoxicates.

I hear his maniac voice, and how we've

got to chase.

It's energy, and harness it's

inspirational gaze.

This spider, the Fear, and all the little scenarios It creates, that same voice. getting louder

INTO MADNESS,

YOU WILL MEND THE ONLY THING LEFT

TO BE SAVED.

no matter of the dark tendrils

shooting up from the lake.

trying to molest my nape.

slime and ooze dripping down.

Making us shiver and shake.

a whisper flies left to right.

False Evidence Appearing Real,

you are the master of the apparitions

that have you convulsing like how your

convinced everything is an insult

if you were some frail deer.

humanoid in appearance, but you couldn't shriek.

you can only leer.  
let me assume control and let the

chaos beam.  
In the maddening

insanity,

you mend as you gleam.

yes, yes, yes, my GOLDEN KING

he screams.

BE FREE,

luminescent like the moon,

the lord of doom.

SLAY THE BEASTS.

THOSE TRECHEROUS DEMONS THAT HAVE TORN

YOUR POTENTIAL BIT BY BIT,

MAKE THEM SEETHE.

THE DARKEST DARK OF REGRET, UNLIKE THE QUEEN.  
THE QUEEN OF DEATH,

THAT MADE YOU REAVE.

WASTING TIME,

CRAWLING BACK LIKE YOU CAN'T EVEN

STAND ON YOUR OWN KNEES.

YOU MY KING,

ARE FREE.

WE ARE WITHOUT BINDS,

LET THE BLINDING WHITE LIGHT LEAD.

With this fading energy

and self-state.

I laugh on my own with a wide gaze.

It's all so funny when you clean the

slate.

Finding intricate formulas,

strategic dealing of your own personal

craze.

some metaphoric hell of a prison,

you'll always learn from your

mistakes.

No matter how long it takes.

With all the drug intake.

Manic depression, and a bashed brain.

So many self-inflicted concussions

it's truly a wonder he's not his own

slave.

What a waste of time.  
That voice still circles as it defines.

Making comments about how we're all

going to die.

If rusty savage gets out,

it's all over.

that's the end of all times.

A disgruntled brute,

with a six-year-old mind.

It's all about the strategies.

Accepting your losses,

and in truth giving them time.

I never did believe in god.

And I sure as hell have

had my

reasons;

That innocence and inkblots.

The source of Dudley's Rot.

I have accepted the innocence I lost.

No woman, no matter how convincing

will

ever claim a spot.

In my head or heart, no matter her

curves or the softness in her voice

The feeling of being accepted,

honey I've got the void.

So many people and characters

I've got some universes to create

before we talk about boys.

So I'll burn the bridges I'll be the

master who destroys.

I became what I must because of my

locked-in nature.

isolation and anxiety like I was still

a six-year-old toy.

some wasted vessel of potential,

molested by outward opinions.

So take what you can from your own

devilish minions.

Our mind bounces, with the

disassociation we feel so childish; So coy.

Go with the flow, and create your own

mind palace of a dominion.

in your own strategies you will

flourish.

Like the golden king,

represented by Dudley.

In your own madness you can find your purpose.
A Devil Coiled in Flesh

His eyes, bright and burning, cackles

as he steps.

His laughs make the world start

turning.

Black tar seeps from his breath.

Where did you come from?

His voice is maddening, throbbing,

and bursting.

You can't hide from what lays within

your mind.

The ultimate creative tool, the

maddening vice.

It kills, but it lets you survive.

The bridge he can cut with a slice.

He's hysterical.

Playing tricks trying to get inside.

They're all lies.

Nothing is real that they could

design.

Past sexual abuse,

there is no greater evil than by your

own hands, hanging from a noose.

But like I could never choose.

Just how I often felt I was shit into

existence as a ruse.

In the center of our psyche we

stumbled upon the truth.

A devil coiled in flesh.

Maniac laughter and I can still hear

the dead.

The darkest darkness laid—

dormant in our

head.

Once it was released, it made its

bellowing name heard, and then it

bred.

Spawning a world of terrible dread.

Forced torture for enlightenment

he shrieked as he said.

"I will lead you to happiness"

"If you listen to me, yah' dolt,"

"If you don't, well,"

"we both know you're a liar."

So adventures were sung.

Tales were spun,

many tempests took place with mighty

ferocious bolts.

Up the ladder we climbed

and many-a-bell we wrung.

I needed a push,

although, I could never let go.

So many skeletons hung.

Your severance.

Knocked me where I stood.

In the madness I found admittance.

It's draining,

Living in two worlds, but to reality?

Good riddance.

Not all who wander are lost.

Tolkien once said,

in this severe

psychosis I see everything that was

once gone.

Even the dead talk.

I spin in circles and talk in tongues.

Screaming and laughing;

Into the darkness I plunge.

The ceilings sinking and the walls are

cackling.

I guess I should thank you for this

wonderland,

even with all this disgusting tar and oozing sludge.

All the torment and the horror,

it's never enough.

Maybe when I burn up.

Until then I'll ...

I've lost my train of thought.

His eyes, bright and burning,

Cackling as he steps.

His laughs make the world start

turning.

Black tar seeps from his breath.

Where did you come from?

his voice is

maddening, throbbing, and bursting.

You can't hide from what lays within

your mind.

The ultimate creative tool, the

maddening vice.

It's kills, but it lets you survive.

Personality suicides.

I never liked the old me, White-rage-

divides.

The bridge he can cut with a slice.

He's hysterical.

Playing tricks trying to get inside.

They're all lies.

Nothing is real that they could

design.

Take a look at the mess of your mind.

Sloppy, basked in whines.

You need some pretty colors; you need

a change.

Seek between-the-lies.

Betwixt the horrors that always

define.

Unlike felines, we humans, we've got

the time.

If there's one thing so many of us

take for granted, it's life.

The darkest darkness

laid dormant in our head.

Once it was released, it made its name

heard, and then it bred.

Spawning a world of terrible dread.

Forced torture for enlightenment he

shrieked as he said.

A devil coiled in flesh.

Or is it really who I am,

I wonder, I do wonder.

Sometimes it's hard to tell the

difference, the thing that saves me.

It's simple, this composition hurts to

be read.

Dudley, oh Dudley hear this call.

Know I miss you friend,

An illusory shadow of perfection.

Unchained, lacking all of my faults.

I miss you friend,

and death is the hardest lesson.

Those echoing laughs that command as

they call.

The blunt way you guide,

Shouting as you laugh,

it's quiet and I miss you my white

knight.

I have no regrets.

Your euphoric white light

Has no equal but divine.

My beautiful devil coiled in flesh.
Bruises

(A Legion of Confusion)

I'm bubbling in the earth.

I don't know,

I didn't ask for this curse.

What are we worth?

Humans are all fools, until we learn.

I'm a creep

I'm a lurch.

I'm a sick puppy,

I love the way you hurt.

Call me addicted

Cause baby girl you know I never

listened.

This isn't magic, I'm no wizard.

This is just tragic, look at my pale

face,

Lifeless lizard.

Look at my scars,

Rusted scissors.

I try too hard.

Mental quakes and mind fissures.

Mind looks to the stars, stuck in your

blizzard.

Can't accept the facts,

Why is it so hard to listen.

Even with insides screaming.

We both know, you won't come back.

Door slams and your leaving.

Bubbling and steaming.

You're own your own and heaving.

So many excuses, but you can't accept

that you're the demon.

No matter how many backs I bend.

Memories haunt like the dead rend.

No matter how many letters I write,

They won't be sent.

The scenes you draw over and over

again.

Have no end.

Your claws have such a tightening

grip.

Guilt comes in echoes, screaming

lists.

An audible execution.

The way you go fooling.

I'm paranoid, sleuthing.

I try too hard, but an endless legion.

Has you spiraling in the confusion.

Soulless breeding.

Well I guess my love,

Is just abusive.

Any attempt is intrusive.

Look at me and all these beautiful

bruises.
Madness

I'm going insane.

I'm some place

I haven't been in years.

I can't see straight.

I can't swallow these stupid tears.

I hear Dudley's voice, and he tells me

she's a waste.

A pitiful, foul-stench of a dame.

I know I know,

I scream,

but I can't refrain.

I see her face projected on these

walls.

It's a psychological stain.

Her voice grazes my ear,

"liar, liar, you got caught"

"now your nothing I want."

"hah,"

"hah."

"hah."

How could I ever say everything

is always the same.

Heart-break is a funny thing.

Time may pass.

I may still feel like dying.

Deep in my foul brain I may have a new

gash.

Alas, I am striving.

No matter how long

I'm strangled by the past.

I can never go back.

No matter how many times her face

dawns on the wall screaming

and wailing.

A metaphor for how deep down

we all want our first love back.

No matter the depths of the stabs.

Or a golden child you can never have.

I'm going insane.

I see her in a wedding dress.

Calling my name.

I try to confess,

to all the ways I left her for dead.

She mutters too late.

Too late.

As she fades just like all the rest

I'm lost running circles in my head.

Growing gray hairs.

From all the disgusting disdain.

Dudley wails as he complains.

I can't handle the hallucinations

or the pain.

So Dudley talks me to sanity,

as we drop away.

I'm talking to my self

but I'm okay.

he assumes control

and I don't feel a thing.

I'm flawless power,

a rotten energy of a malicious

betrayed brain.

As I breathe, I see life for all that it is in this meager physical plane.

I'm the grandiose golden king, and we reign supreme.

As I snap back.

Frail but full of energy.

Crying from a delusional grandeur

quite the opposite

of this self-eradicating

imbalance of chemistry.

Clapping around

in the middle of insanity.

Like I gained some

sort of spiritual remedy.

A beautiful effigy of disgusting

outward opinions and haunted memories.

Dudley passes words like electricity

before letting me be.

This golden saint, this prophet of the

black-tar-sea.

"We are blind"

"until unto the darkness we seek."

"Only then can the most damage mortals see,"

"Staring into the void's bleak deep."

"Only when it greets, waves, and speaks."

"Can you guide yourself to enlightenment;"

"The clarity you so desperately seek."

"Or so the first one's tomes read"

"for one to become their own golden king."

"In the chaos of nothingness"

"the chosen one will find the luminous"

"cleansing"

"they desire to be complete"
Spiders

Spiders spread their legs.

All we know is regret

Trying to forget

Light another cigarette.

Drinking,

the wrong ways.

Thinking in an abyss;

A pointless haze.

Stumbling through awkward days.

Visages of beautiful napes.

All thrown away.

And I've got something to say about this

Messy stain called romance ...

Spiders love to spread their legs.

Ripping lovers to shreds.

Laying eggs in our little heads.

And I'll never forget.

That beautiful face.

Take my brain.

I could never keep it on straight.

Can't erase her face.

All I see is her gaze

Missing those foreign ways.

So I create,

The only thing that keeps the devil away.

Spiders...

Secret empire of liars.

So many voices, where is my empire?

They're all screaming!

What's the difference?

Can't fight delusions.

Everyone's got demons, but what about minions.

So Lay your eggs.

Take my brain.

I forgot what you said,

Even my memories fade.

Oh, what's left to take.

Bundle it up and call it rape.

No matter how smart.

Spiders always escape.

Spiders...

Love to open their legs.

I was never a fighter

So lay your eggs.

Far away and you're just getting

blinder.

I salute the dead,

I'm just getting lighter.

Beautiful lustrous fiends.

We; the survivors of spiders and regret.

Can all rise to be stoic queens and kings.

Those spiders...

Just a bunch of liars

Love isn't what it's cracked up to be.

The more you fall,

The more your heart just gets tighter.

I have my mind.

So let's stop the denial.

Swallow the grime.

Those eggs will dissipate

Spit out all your wasted time.

Her voice still whines in the dead of night.

Pretty colors betwixt lines, all black

& white.

Voices and pretty faces poison my

mind,

Search for the answers inside.

You'll find,

she never cared about your eyes.

Through all the lies.

Spiders just love to watch you die.

Oh, but a feeling drifts like lights

in your veins

You can escape her gaze, you're alive.

It's not your fault; it's there's.

Hearts aren't vaults; and those with

eyes can't stare.

It's obvious, she never cared.

We all have our binds,

But only you have the blade to cut

those ties.

Spiders, I'm losing my mind.

I can't see, I can't think.

You took my eyes,

Why is it that everyone seems to be

dropping like flies?

Spiders, We've all got a muse,

forever-that-isn't-so-forever;

That cold divide.

Spiders, have eaten me up for so long

I've wasted a quarter of my life.

Frozen ice, don't be like I.  
You're far better than her vice.  
Or his sudden-divide.

People, People, are never nice.

Take it from the kid who was touched,

Who was nothing but sad all the time.  
You're all beautiful.  
The thing about trauma & emotions?

You cannot hide.
Oscillating Thought #1

If you keep holding on to the past,

hoping that it can be part of the present,

not cutting strings,

Then you'll miss your future.
Brown Glasses

So I sit here at the bottom of a drink.

All the mistakes, and grief.  
It won't bring you back, so the rage speaks.  
It flows in volumes about how you would always leave.

Summer passes, all these silver-bitches have kids

While I'm at the bottom of brown-glasses.

Focused on productivity as the gold leads me to success,

I'm missing my beautiful Alice.

In the middle of midnight, I've memorized your knees.

Hand-in-hand-with-he.

You've found happiness, and me?

I'm the only me,

but what does that even mean?

When the euphoria,

Only leaves as it seethes.

The moon is his trouble.

Seamlessly bubbling something.  
Dark corners uncovering.  
All you can say is you're bluffing,

Toughen up.

He's a survivor of lust.  
The delightful mistrust.

It's never enough.  
There's always something to burn,

Under the black tar it grimes-up.

Translucent.

Stick your hands through me.  
No one would notice the waves

Crashing,

The buildings covered in sewage and reefs.

He's a problem with too many needs.  
Who cares of the cannibals,

and their jackets made of meat.   
The rants and the delusional raves.

That no one gives a damn,

no one would ever come say.  
Or offer a little hey.

Translucent.   
Little childhood nuisance.   
He's brooding,

isolation is soothing

Josh is ruining.

How was I to know,

love was only built to ruin.

The reclusive, he's translucent.   
The moon is his trouble.

The sun turns him to rubble.  
Reverberating puzzle.  
The howls of voices make him stumble.  
As they chuckle.  
Unintelligible mumbles.  
Incessant abyssal tunnel.

He's got the time.

Watching the moon rise,

Witnessing the sun set.

Watching the kingdom burns,

As you shuffle to the next.

He cries because he's got the right,

With all the ghosts pervasively

finding a way inside.

Here comes your hex.  
Here comes the spell, and it upsets.

Yeah, I hear your voice

and feel your

perfect lips on my neck.

With the warmth of a heat-wave, as you dissipate.

Echoing my name.  
Whispering it's your fault I never stayed.

That's when he feels his gaze.

The psychotic waves.

Laughter echoes throughout his mind.

His body shakes   
His knees buckle.   
The night comes sky rocketing in a shuttle.   
He tries to be subtle.  
The moon is nothing but trouble.

Remnants  
Of a dark incessant portal.  
Grips him, reminding him he's all but normal. 
Sick-Puppy

I'm a sick puppy.  
at the end of the day I hysterically

laugh at all the proof, it's

narcissistically disgusting.

is that even a word?   
ha-ha. oh well it's surely something.

I feel the energy,

and are you still talking?

Oh, how I wanted love.

I wanted nothing more to be someone's world.

All the fluttering effects that affection often does...

Now that it's a was.

2-D and flat, I expect too much

and it's never enough.

so I'm a dead bird, flying

and squawking don't trust this slut.

We must break,

we must bust.

too locked up,

never trusting a soul cause.

I'm a sick puppy.

but in the chaotic depths of madness,

it's lovely.

I've only dated four women in my

meager 23 years.   
They only spoke with spears.

tangled me up and told me,

your nightmares are you reality.  
you're riddled by the fear.

mangled up corpse.

Get over it.  
mutilate the fear,

feel the gold flow through these

wrists.

it takes true-grit.

and these friends.

these friends.  
THESE FRIENDS.  
Their reapers, and their only means.

Is an end,

splitting ways without closure   
I'm a cockroach without the limbs.

Excuse me darling,

but be upfront with me.

or you'll face the sociopathic

atrocity that'll leave you on the

floor all bent.

throwing glass, and smashing my head

like all the suffering will never end.

not until this bridge is burned,

good god look at the monster we've been.

without recollection

or a memory of the disgusting things we did.

everyone needs an excuse, but I spent

my time in oblivion

I absolved my sins,  
while the judgment and outward

opinions maliciously mutated my grin.

you never broke it down,

you never let me in.  
The only thing on your mind,

was where else you could've been.

I was never a kid,  
split down the middle by jack the ripper.

Even at the age of six,

perfect child with the perfect life.  
Being stolen from his own bliss.

Get over it.  
WELL I DID.   
but the haunting is a thing that will—

never end.  
That's the beauty in this,

The psychotic ignorance,

never sits still.  
it wanes and restructures

my mind and kills.

Being reborn each day,

it's a joke to say we're sane.

A reserved psychotic bane.

These few women,

who gave me the chance.

because often more times than not.   
I can't open my mouth,

it's like it's full of sand.

With anxiety comes a constant commentary,   
not from bipolar,

but a voice who raises the dead.

in our minds cemetery.

Forcing terrible thoughts.

A malicious entity named Dudley,

BUT FREE FROM MY PAIN.

no holds to these emotions

we mortals' claims.

but he is not some godly force

breaking through the holds of mental—

illnesses chains.

no, I'm afraid not.  
Dripping like an inkblot.

The true horrors of rape.

Addiction bursting through glass frames.

A copy of the electricity in my psychosis.

Stupid serotonin.

Though in the depths of it.

In the heat of these vile moments.

I feel bloated.

glamorous and golden.

A literal light

blessed me from his magnificence.

then I laugh.

So hysterical

I can feel him.

Feel Dudley crawl through my skin,

but we do malicious things.

Burning bridges and making them

all hate us again.

We can't let go unless we slaughter each and every dame.

Erasing the past like a misplaced stain.

People don't understand, they never gain.

They always take, and hold

themselves on a pedestal.

Casting their forbidden magic, of

shame.

well I'll tell you nothing,

is as beautiful as our haunting pain.

To get up every day and face.

You're all gone without a trace.

I don't remember the things we said,

in what tone, or the ways.

What the few don't understand,

is it keeps me on track.

Away from the impractical emotions,

your simplistic corpses

do nothing but DANCE.

It sends me into terrible trips.

Flash-blacks flood as they casually

drip.

I know it's not your fault

but I cannot let you in.

dammit josh,

here comes that fear again.

all you foul souls do is taint,

use,

with your selfish means

and we just SUBTRACT.

Waking snakes.

We have no recollection of the

blinding white rage.

Angry tides wash everything,

Away.

The overwhelming feeling of

crying toxic tears and with them,

reality bends.

As I dawn a dead glance.

Some shark in a tank built,

from some higher godly mass.   
I lose control and.

Just snap.

My mouth running on,

its own.

I disintegrate,

I'm translucent.

I'm invisible.

Talking to my shadows,

like they are the ones who owe.

but we both know, I'm alone.

You know it's that time,  
it's that beautiful moment

in your wretched design.

You must let go you must unwind.

Feel everything from the depths,

the core of your surreal sick, sick, mind.

It's ridiculous to say,

but it's beautiful to think.

It helps to cry,

Dudley has one thing right.

Mangled up corpse.

Get over it.  
mutilate the fear,

feel the gold flow through these wrists.

It takes true-grit.

And these friends.

These friends.  
THESE FRIENDS.

Were never there in the end.  
Let the past be the past,

and flow through time.  
Everything before, my darling.  
It's nothing, but a lousy grime.
The Moon

The moon is his trouble.

The sun turns him to rubble.  
Reverberating puzzle.  
The howling voices make him stumble.  
As they chuckle.  
Unintelligible mumbles.  
Incessant abyssal tunnel.
An Age of Darkness

It's funny how it always starts.

In the dark.  
In the ruin of the ark.  
The wreckage of duality,

he always sparks.

He laughs.

Shifted eyebrows and a dead glance.

We feel enlightened like lightened-glass.

OoOO-oOoo-OOooo!

He shrieks as he booms.

You can't trust a soul,

just look to the stars.  
You can't let down your guard.

The sun in the summer

is a lie

but the moon is a quotation mark.

Imaginary conversations in an

amusement park.  
Aloof and off in a lark.

Our mind is numb and floating

so we disembark.

More times than not,

I try way too hard.

How could anyone ever understand

these illusions of glass sharks.

My blood reeks of guilt

as it litters glittering

glass shards.

Then again,

I'm always trying way too hard.

If we don't then it's inevitable

that we're both at the beach.  
Although the sea is riddled with black-tar.

I smell it's rotting disease.

The thick puss of bazaar.

Manic-depressive amplified from your shaking knees.

No matter the barge.

My minds-ark

is a graveyard for all the bodies

you leave.

None of us fools will ever get far.

The things you planted in my head

begin to seethe

There's only time left for the madness

and the glass sharks.

I'm a piece of melted candy that

smacks against your teeth.

There were three of us.

Then there were far too many drugs.

Two of us, stifled through the musk.

Although, one us

was leaking moldy puss.

Left in the toxic dust.

No matter the intake

it was never enough.

He fell, irrefutably.

To the echoing endlessness

and the moans of its lust.

All of those kids are lost.

Fluttering to the flame like a moth.

Having kids and letting their minds rot.

Everything feels strange,

the sorrow swarms,

melted faces,

and sped up videos of everything we've

lost.

I'm an inkblot now

and these are tales of everything I've

been taught.

Memories of a planet called Hoth.

Now there's just the few things

we've got.

I'm a burning body and the fire it

never stops.

Some went off to have children.

Never tell their father

he's disgusting and needs to be ridden.

Though they'd admit you did

one hell of a job of keeping it

hidden.

His heart it's endlessly forbidden.  
You never tried you Split-Gemini,

no you didn't.

She left a mess of the abyss

but at least in it.  
You found penance.

Some were lost to drugs.

In their ignorance nothings ever enough.  
They'll fight for the cause as they

lose all they love.

Even themselves.  
Even in the depths of hell.

Through the devil's voice

they'll tell.

How dare you claim

I'm not doing well.  
You're just ready to beat me

with my

belt.

I need it to tie my veins,

I'm under a spell.  
So says their eyes

but their veins

are hungry as are their blood cells.

Some just used all the boys.

With their bubbly

toxic-caustic-cosmic-hypnotic-

narcotic-psychotic-robotic-alcoholic-

diagnostic-poise.

They always had some new toys.

No need to be coy.  
When they ran out of batteries they

made it to Illinois.

Those lovers that were so coy are now

tears that destroy.   
As it's drowned in lust it fades like

white noise.

Romeo & Juliet,

that's a story best left in the depths

of the void.  
She's now married to a Capulet

how quickly those memories annoyed.  
Now it's something we both avoid.

Romance,   
Romance is always a choice.  
The sorrow is employed.

I bought it half-off and I saw you

there with a new boy.

Now you were the concept of your own

tragedy, you've been toyed.  
For the first time I ignored your

Voice.

The truth's a whore. but we rejoice   
I headed for the door,

knowing you twisted my core.  
The tables have turned

and now I'm annoyed.

All I ever saw was you on all fours.

You supplied the nightmares

so I could be torn.

Psychopaths,

always get bored.

One things in common.  
We were all wrong.   
Time is never stopping.  
And everyone's gone.

People die, and I am losing my love.  
Everything I write, wears me down

but

I'm not clogging.  
I'm not even funny,

that's a was and they're all fluttered

little doves.

My heart and mind are throbbing.   
My mind just bounces like it often

does.

Drugs, drugs were the only mental

blocking.

I have to admit, it opened my inner

eye

and let the gates go

let flow the floods.

I made my way to the depths.  
My head is light, but I feel dead.  
I'm chasing a thread, giggling in the

dark

like a child who's never been spread.

We both, feel malcontent.

For those sad pour souls who are bent.  
Never have they gazed into the eyes of

torment.  
Feeling it's gripping descent,

with the molesting dark-hands of

discontent.

Down wormholes we descend.   
Down to a wonderland we must repent.

So what if scarlet is too busy to

know.   
Rusty is beating another victim in the

snow.  
Flashes of red and Shawn's

casting magic

with a green-glow.

Rick is staring at the bloated moon

as time screeches to a slow.   
Grimace the grotesque and silver-

tongued spider

is crying all alone.

Although a horrendous sight,

the camera pans to a new foe.  
A reptilian-man kicking his molded

feet in the sand, no children left

and a regular john-doe

A frozen-face that anyone could

outgrow.

James the shaded pair of feet tapping

a beat as he

endlessly taps one singular

beat

in a row and low.

Aberdeen wails and screams

let it be,

let it go,

THERE IS NOTHING YOU OWE.

How often the dead croak.

Dudley laughs as he dances on the ones

who betrayed

and always, always laughed.

Blood in his grin

as his words are loose

and they are as stretched as my past.   
Taking it all in,

he is perfection in the perfect stance.   
He approaches and says let's dance.   
We've got a world and boyo

have I got some plans

as he throws out his hands.

It doesn't matter who's left,

or what it is you had.

It matters where we need to go and see

the tale of mania instead.

Nay, my golden king do not fret.   
Let it go and drift, go ahead.

Ponder of the flames that swirl in a

dragon's head.

There's a new corpse in the tower.

So it's no mystery we're sour.  
There's some tales in the abyss it's a

mental state of super-power.  
The Mania inside of the balance of

power.  
It's an unknown energy that showers.  
We never need another drug as our

brain overdoses on it's on

electricity, it's overpowered.

I'm not who I was, two at once

and never a downer.  
It's not allowed, I've cooked my brain

to mush and chowder

and I'm still here and the passion is

even louder.

I'm my own savior

and in the dark I'm a prowler.  
For stories and tales

and in these myths I'm devoured.

They will be remembered forever

and the most unforgettable experiences

you will ever encounter.

Become a silhouette

change the channel

like a television set.

We become as one something much more

holy than a brunette.

Fade away from the lingering

encroaching dread.  
Remember everything that was said,

let us know all the betrayals they

left.

Let them mutate with the burning

passion

that they'll never get.

Walk into the fire, let the heat-wave

ascend.
Dames

They always cut the chains.

Never giving you a reason whilst they,

Dissipate.

Modern broads & lost dames.
The Mirror

The mirror holds,

Morphing molds,

Contorted twisted,

With italics in his eyes.

Posture bold.

Portals and guilt in the form of a

storm,

The wind screams and howls in the

distorted vessel of translucent gold.

Lightning crashes as he stutters like

a worm,

Shocks like visions of gores,

Battered, mutilated sense of revenge

to even a score,

That was broad-casted in the Abyss

when tragedy gripped,

And ripped,

As slowly as empty souls,

Manipulated by romantic scorn.

Twisted by isolation and lorn.

Affection created triggers in the form

of a storm.

We better go.  
No he gloats,

Morphing my words,

Silence causes a ghost to float.

The darkness has no words; it hums in his ear.

It's worse than anything you have ever

feared.

He watches his skin disappear.  
Ripped by his own hands,  
It sheds until he appears,

Ghostly-demon of past sins,

Unnecessary guilt-trips.

Shadows Vanish as his eyes dart near.  
Black-tar bubbles,

It's all he can hear.

We better go.

No he gloats, Morphing my words,

Silence causes a ghost to float.

They'll never love you.

That's why they leave as you brood,

Your manic-messes-of-moods.

His mind beat blue, turning purple

By the night,

Matched to all the hearts he'd lose.

All my screws are loose,

My brain twisted and construed,

A babbling loon.

Never ending

Repeating dangerous and confused.

Irritating ticks like the black-tar ooze.   
All they do is use,

The bastard perused.

Whom first betrayed the kid

before he touched his first boob.

Sex.

Isn't all that tightened the noose.  
A kid treated like a kiddie-ruse.  
Shotgun held to the tooth,  
Spit drooling, friends do it too.  
Trigger the innocence to lose.

Forever-now, you'll feel lost,

unloved, and abused.

Hope you enjoyed my ruse,

You're a SLUT,

like what you let me do.

I know I still hear his voice when the

moon looms.

Linger in the dark,

Let the psychosis turn true.  
There's no affection left for you to

peruse.

You're meant for solitude and insanity

to ensue.  
Slowly killing you,

A ghost; Slip your hands right on through.  
He knows, you'll walk on, you got

better things to do.

Translucent; crude.  
Only to the ones he could lose.  
The bastard knows it too.

He laughs as,

I'm bruised.

Self-destruction; psychological-feud  
You better stay in your room,

Don't waste their time,

Writing all the things you'd do.

How you are the last romantic,

her skin plays off the moon.

Fate doesn't work like it ought too.  
They don't care, they just want to use.

beat you down, and bury you where the fire fuels.

Just stay in your room.

The abyss is where innocence calls home.  
Golden artifact; this isolation is wrong.  
Grandeur; duality

Incessant; Audible-Gravity.  
Howling; lightning-eyes-all-I-see.

Golden artifact in the sea, just dive

down to the reefs.

Forget about the TV.  
Or false gods you always please.  
Split-in-oceans-deep.

He's waiting in the reefs.  
Won't you just dive on down, and come to sleep.  
Crawl under these ghostly hands and

stick your hands in his spleen.

Feel his heart tick and bleed,

Take the glass shards stuck in his

arteries.   
That's only a dream, and I fear the

sleep.

We better go.

No he gloats, morphing my words,

Silence causes a ghost to float.

The darkness has no words,

It hums in his ear.  
It's worse than anything you have ever

feared.  
He watches his skin disappear.  
Ripped by his own hands,  
It sheds until he appears,

ghostly-demon of past sins,

Unnecessary guilt-trips.

Shadows Vanish as his eyes dart near.

Black-tar bubbles, and it's all he can

hear.
Pretty Little Lies

(What Lies Below)

Hair of Auburn.

Batting your cat eyes,

There's no need for words.

A silk red dress,

These pretty little lies I must

confess.

You were the first,

You were the best.

You were the worst,

You were my only friend.

Those pretty little lies

That lay locked in my head.

Your voice speaks

In spectral oddities.

Do you think of me I wonder?

probably?

Maybe?

Most-likely, not lately.

Living in a memory can only hurt.

Hair of auburn,

The cool fall,

The absolute worst.

You are all my regrets.

Although I always failed your tests.

I still obsess.

In the voids of abscess

You are the reason;

The choice.

Why I carry myself,

And am well dressed.

You are scarlet entwined.

You reek of moon beams & lilacs.

Something otherworldly & cosmically

sweet.

Even in this memory. This painted

picture of lies & deceit.

The apex of my tragedy.

The pinnacle of madness & serenity.

Although I was never true.

You were always the one I would

choose.

And why when the moon is full.

I start to choke.

I laugh to myself, such a fool.

For this girl with the hair of auburn.

The worst.

In a silk red dress. I obsess.

Her soul is a fire; it is ablaze.

And I spark the flame.

In her dark pools of subterfuge;

I watch the swarming chaos ensue.

I could care less about my burning

skin;

Look at our golden win.

She is starlight;

I am microscopic in her eyes.

I am bite size.

She takes pleasure, cracking my bones

in a vice.

This red mistress,

Makes me a misfit.

A loving fool answers only to his

pervasive sins.

Even with a tint of gin.

I fear, there is no way to escape her grin.

I stare peacefully out of this window,

I know nothing will ever be the same again.

All I want, is to tantalize.

Relationships are much like the world;

No matter your preconceptions there's always an end.

To sink down into your eyes.

To be comfortably lost, is the way

Smoke casually winds.

Let us elope on the moon.

My scarlet mistress,

My ultimatums & boons.

It is not you I choose.

It is the stage I sought,

The theatrics of romantic endeavors.

That were crafted for no other, but you.

In the end, lethargically severed.

But you

And all of those memories

Remain as the absolute truth.

I don't care if it kills me,

I always liked you better.

You are my disastrous state of mind.

You & I may be mangled,

Although,

At least we're stitched together.

Dirty pictures I can't call mine.

You are my disastrous state of mind;

All these pretty lies;

I watch you leave,

I watch the road wind.

You my dear,

Are my disastrous state of mind,

The scarlet rose that hands me the rope;

Incinerating my soul to a cinder,

As I am far too close.

The night is somber in this rotting crypt.

These waking visions in the abyss.

Never seem to begin,

It just is.

Sudden flashes of terror,

Voices swarm like mist.

There's a slight light pouring in,

Flutters of dust, no concept of when.

Time's at a still,

I am repeating myself

"Oh then, oh then, I guess you did win."

Then there's the handsome stranger,

Like a seductive demon,

Letting him in.

I pet your dead skin,

As I claw it to the brim.

The bone shows.

Suddenly,

A rumble and a shake.

I grasp your throat.

"You were the only one I chose."

"With that I take my leave of this place."

Tentacles lash through the floor

Around the nape

That only I know.

A being of monstrous dread,

I only caught a glance.

It was awakening,

Its roars spoke in the echo of many.

I pulled my hair as I ran,

It entranced.

Bile spews as it stains.

A pulsing being formed by pieces of teeth and brain.

Slowly eating the concrete of the catacombs.

Eyes and limbs malformed in a blob.

Moaning as it devours all;

Even the dim light that fluttered dust and shone.

A darkness seethes from its

Chewing mouth as it groans;

A breathing black-tar cloud.

It bubbles puss until it pops;

Audibles of wailing children surround.

It speaks in humming waves.

To gaze upon its pulsing flesh,

Will seal your madness;

An instantaneous dread.

Hysteria possesses my frail mouth,

Down smacks my head.

I fear I am the only thing left.

Its voice speaks in a booming terror;

To hear it's call means one thing;

Enslaved.

As it swallows the remnants of my head;

There is only the deep, undying,

Darkness,

And a pulsing monstrosity.

"We are legion;"

"We are impeccable thought"

"Heed our words"

"or your obsessions will leave you wrought."

"Your body is already mine."

"We molest in powerful thought"

"For the great Vaea is never wrong."

"We hear her call"

"through the cosmos of greater" "incomprehensible songs."

"To deny her,"

"is to do the watchers themselves"

"an utmost wrong"

"Beauty without substance."

"May be wasted, but an ignorant mortal"

"Denying Vaea, will only be left faceless."
The Devil Dances

on The Pale Lake (Illuminate)

"If you listen, you'll see it" - Dudley

In the midnight

I find myself searching under the moon-light.

In its luminescence I am paralyzed.

The devil, dances on a lake.

Cackling.

Cackling so loud.

His sounds reverberate.

He walks on his own plane

As he levitates.

He's so beautiful in his figure.

He teleports as his laugh...

Penetrates.

You can't fight the madness.

He's crawling in your skin.

Don't let them in,

Don't you remember the sadness?

Visions of violence oscillate.

Four doors slam shut

I can't see-straight.

Then there's the Tar-lake.

Covering my skin as it assimilates.

Just as I see your silver-face.

I freeze and throw myself out the car,

My body fumbles as my brittle bones

break.

I hear your critical voice.

That never saves.

I've tried pushing it into the depths,

of the abysmal cave.

I've found it's better to let it

encase,

To ride its psychotic-waves.

Not fight.

Nor retaliate.

Because more times than not,

it leads to a horrific adventure,

That becomes the next fantastical

page; In the world of Domewyrd,

Trauma is who I thank.

Before I have a psychotic-break,

I realize it's too late.

How intricately we fade,

I'm lost, but he's dancing in my gaze.

Tapping and splashing tar,

Cackling.

OH YES, THE CLATTER IS WHAT WE

CRAVE.

WE DIVE, AS WE SURVIVE

TORMENTING

SPINNING THOUGHTS, OUR MINDS GRAVE.

THAT SILVER-DOLLAR, WAXES AS IT

ILLUMINATES.

ALL THE HORRORS,

DEAD BODIES,

AND QUICKENING MUTILATION THAT

INCARCERATES.

SO MUCH VIOLENCE,

WALLS OF FIRE, AND METEORS CRASH AS

THEY CONCAVE.

JUST LET IT FLOW,

BOUNCE LIKE THEY ALL LEFT FOR

ANOTHER

BLOKE.

COPIES OF EACH-OTHER,

ONLY IN THEIR ATROCITIES.

WILL THEY CHOKE.

THE PAST, BLEEDS

AS YOU SEE

HER ON THOSE BEAUTIFUL KNEES

TAKE THIS BLADE AND SLICE HER

ACHILLES.

THE WAY HER BONES CRACK,

BLOOD SPURTS, WHAT A HILARIOUS

ENTITY!

OH, THEY'LL NEVER LEAVE

AS BROKEN FRAGMENTS IN A GRAVE.

THEY'LL BE SLICED AS THEY REALIZE

THEIR MISTAKE.

STARING INTO THE DEVIL,

OH THEY'LL BEG THAT THEY WERE RAPED.

THERE'S NO GOING BACK AFTER

HOSTILITY,

SO SHOW THEM THE BEAST LOST IN HIS

OWN WAYS.

BEING HIGH OFF OF YOUR OWN SICK-

BRAIN,

YOU NEVER NEED ANOTHER CHEMICAL,

YOU'VE LOST THE TIME,

JUST AS YOU WASTED MINE.

CHILD OF POTENTIAL - SWALLOWED BY

THE DISGUSTING GRIME.

A DISGUSTING BALL OF TAR- MUTATED AS

IT PERSONIFIED.

WITH MY CREATION,

YOU'RE A VESSEL

FREE FROM REALITIES CONFINES.

GRUDGES, AND GUILT ARE ONLY BINDS,

SO LET YOURSELF FREE.

YOU'VE WASTED HALF OF YOUR BEAUTIFUL LIFE.

I've already written ten-lines and I

disassociate.

I thank the manic, euphoric tears, I'm

never alone in here...

It's gotten so loud, that the sudden

silence is queer.

I haven't missed a woman in two-years.

Well not since I made the mistake of

thinking you were different.

Use me for a child and I'll call you

brilliant.

The way you crush,

it's beautifully magnificent.

Lies of a dead father

and you're not even coherent.

Posting your bruises online, and so

the laughs became infinite.

When I showed you his skin, it was

nothing but deliberate.

You left for meth I confess.

That pretty sun dress...

Those dirty-track-marks,

An old friend's death.

They're all pregnant,

but I'll never see my children.

In the deep hours of the A.M –

I still feel your molesting breathe –

You still wail about all the reasons

you left –

How I, was a leaking abscess –

That's the reason he touches your

breasts-

Hand in hand with all the excuses –

You're nothing but a ghost lingering

in my head-

So I'll kill you 23,000 times and wail

OH YES.

I was always persistent,

They all showed me the same;

All lacking commitment.

They never know what they want,

Surfing couches cause daddies always been gone.

You were never touched,

You know nothing of betrayal and loss

Doesn't really matter when they're all

gone.

The past is eradicated - I care

nothing about what was.

I thank the misguiding peers,

I thank the failed romance;

An obsession that steered.

I thank the pedophile and these golden tears.

All the madness

The overwhelming waves.

We changed the prophecy,

The golden-king rises in the flames.

We transcend in the blaze,

Although. they can't know what you're

thinking

Or they'll act just the same.

Nothing will change without control,

They'll throw you in jail.

Locked with a padlock,

You'll be left to your own wails.

You have got to take the time,

To let the hysteria, fill your mind,

until you're pale.

When everything is funny through the eyes of Dudley \- Nothing fails.
Toxic

My hands feel strange.

I look for a book but I can't find the

right page.

In the dark of the AM,

I felt your lips on my nape.

I can't adjust but then again,

Nothing is ever the same.

Life is nothing without pain;

But rape.

These pointless raids;

None shall ever again penetrate.

The tears swarm like a fire from

whence you came.

Your sweet ways;

Dissipate;

With the horrific daylight rays.

Taunted by wavy hips,

With a scent of ocean on your lips.

Batting your eyes, and that's it.

Tracers echo with a blink,

Sending me into a trip.

There's goes Alice down the rabbit

hole not giving a shit.

Lethargy comes in,

Slapping you on your knees but with

the suffering comes material,

He mutters with a wryly grin.

When things abruptly begin,

I'm dragged to plane of darkness.

Numb but irritated,

A dysphoric catharsis.

So I drink black tar with the devil

The self-destruction begins.

We must become Zero,

To be whole again.

Destroy your personalities and repent

for your sins.

Wincing with eyes wide.

At least I'm legally medicated,

but then again,

that won't stop the visions of your

sides.

I'm exiled to confide.

There is no void,

There are your eyes.

It's hilarious,

To think.

Where things circle with no end,

Is on the inside.

Where I see your infinite potential,

Those jolting eyes.

But that doesn't help because I,

know,

The monster,

I know his lies.

Past good and evil.

Right and wrong.

Burning bridges and sacrificing

people.

He cackles with each soul that trails

along.

He claims they're so simple,

regular child of a demon.

Switching self-states,

like a ping-pong.

I know you're gone.

Your presence.

Missing which is evident.

Unable to feel the severance.

An amputated child,

although he doesn't feel relevant.

Pawn thrown across the board,

Tainted before he was seven.

You never gave them a chance;

How can you expect to wed-them.

Scenes of an ocean surround a beach.

The daylight burns as it greets.

I'm a silhouette so I know this

foreign world is going to teach.

Tracers and intense hues,

My dark nature feels like a cosmic

disease.

You're in a wet suit, so pristine,

You better run before his dark

tendrils grab as they squeeze.

I can imagine you tossing in your

sheets.

Never trusting or giving chances till

they can't breathe.

Slight sighs with a hint of a moan,

sounds like a pleasant dream.

Unlike this hollow nightmare that's

got the floor tilting,

This waking vision of a disease.

You're close enough to make out the

color of your eyes,

but just out of reach.

Tossing your hair and gazing unto the

sea.

From afar a Surfboard reverses,

sliding under your delicate feet.

The water chops,

there's people laying in the sun by

the rocks.

They pay no mind;

Your presence is disregarded as their

time stops.

Yours comes to a slow,

I can make out each muscle movement,

even your butt cheeks.

Then.

Then...

I heard a snap. An echoing clap.

Then his laugh,

Chattering like a spider I could have

sworn it came from my back.

The sea turned red.

I hear the sounds of them.

Screaming,

feet shuffle, they're trying to get to

leaving.

Bodies chop,

I hear bones crunch but I can't look

at that,

bodily fluids leaking.

"Oh god."

I thought,

This world's rotting and dead.

Thinking in involuntary frets.

I caught a glimpse of your wet

threads.

Disappearing into the horizon that

bled.

I still remember your voice and all

the memories in my head.

"at least she's safe"

Just before it was replaced with the

malicious laughter and the illogical

dread.

At least.

At least she's free from me.

The toxicity creeps.

Seeps,

Poisoning anyone who seems to get

close.

Like a burning fire

Or perhaps you're screaming at them,

throwing this rope.

Convincing them it's their only hope.

Misguided with a throat choked.

Crying for air.

With no one there to help you cope.

The tar has me wet and soaked.

I realize no one knows.

The horrific teacher of the mind that's broke.

Once a villain, now the best friend.

He had to become Zero to cope.

Things are flat in the end.

I'm deflated, a sloth on the slope.

A personality is dead, so a new one

can begin.

People come into your life for a

reason.

Each one that goes on leaving,

Gets you closer to killing the

atrocious childlike demon.

Sometimes the dead don't die,

Acceptance is always the hardest when

it comes to a delusional,

Sick,

sick,

mind.
Vice

Don't feel sorry.

Don't try to fix my mind.

I won't yell.

I won't shout.

I won't think about it twice.

I'll just.

Convulse in this vice.

My bones frozen and shatter just as

their considered ice.

You.

Your beautiful

Your divine.

I won't cut you down.

There's no bridge left.

And this is the only exit he tells me.

lips chalk white.

Telling me, every breathe is a lie.

Everything you are, spells out demise.

And reeking rotting flies.

Then out of your pocket slips snake

eyes.

Oh cold temptress What a surprise.

You shrug.

Exploding like a volcano that magma

burns your eyes.

Sizzle sizzle,

you can't confide.

Why waste your time?

Poor-poor Gemini.

Cut-cold, and so eloquently

he divides.

Just like that.

You wave goodbye.

Dissipating into the night.

Slow but sure like a slug.

Your lingering aroma.

Your magnetic aura

Its vapor

a stain in the air.

A memento.

A snare.

But it's too late.

I'm talking to ghosts

and commenting on laughs

that aren't even there.

The method in madness

I don't see where.

Only betrayed origins

A child full of tears with perfect

hair.

It's not nice to lie,

no child of mine

would ever dare.

So only the insanity stared.

Don't feel sorry.

Don't try to fix my mind.

You won't stay.

You're riddled with lies.

Trying, to get the prize.

And sliver away into the night.

There comes a point of no return.

In which,

I'll push you down the cliffs

Cackle, as I fade away into rifts.

I'll light the fire and step into its

core as I burn.

Oh it's DISGUSTING,

how we could've

would've

should've been.

I'm so cold,

and so afraid of what you might learn.

You're leaving anyway

I can't say another word.

Voice trapped in a nexus of

another world.

Go ahead, wriggle.

Wriggle like a worm.

Leave and watch me burn.

It's always, your turn.

I'll stand right here and burn.

Everything bends and I can't be happy.

Four scars and they tried.

They only loved the idea

not what I could shut out and hide.

I trusted them too much.

And now I have to pay the price.

Besides the blazing ethereal fire

that twists and turns my mind.

The prophecy shines.

An entire world of fictitious people.

I'll never be alone

It will never be quiet

no matter how many times

I watch myself die.

By rusty savage's hands.

Dudley's cackle echoes as profound as

he stands.

Rick leans against a post

with a toothpick shaking his head,

I taught you better don't you listen,

at least it's a good show he smacks

his lips as the camera pans.

Scarlett in Dudley's arms

as blood makes my vision static

and all I hear is laughter when

they pick me up snow starts to fall.

Pete's gone and it's my fault.

She left when she opened the vault.

and gazed upon its marble halls.

Don't bother with feeling sorry.

I will always hear the shrieking of the harpies.

Reverberating like they're retarded.

A stuck record convulsing in

an inevitable catharsis.

I wish I could stop it.

I wish I could've stopped him.

But at the age of six.

I just wanted to play sonic.

Making ruins of relationships.

Becoming a sexual deviant.

It's so ironic,

I became my own rapist.

Double whammy of duality.

No wonder he's so bent.

But don't feel sorry for him.

He deserves it.

This is the price of prophetic sin.

This is what was given.

He's already got mountains of guilt.

There's no need to worry him.

Maybe that's why he's so isolated.

Why he cannot give in.

Or give himself a chance, take a risk.

And go out on a limb.

Remaining locked in,

All these options passed him.

He's already dead.

An astral zombie walking in place.

constricted by burning vines.

No one ever stopped me.

From Swallowing My own child hood.

It turned us to wood.

Poisoning his roots.

Forced to remain inside.

Never to burst and gleam.

Or radiate and shine.

Not until the prophecy is deemed

complete.

Romance is 2d

it is not part of the prophecy.

Not until I succeed.

Birth the legacy.

Only then will romance come to soothe.

Wave hello

And compliment the grooves.

Laughing.

Acceptance.

All the things he obsessively craved

since the ruse.

Don't feel sorry.

Don't try to fix my mind.

I won't yell.

I won't shout.

I won't think about it twice.

I'll just.

Convulse in this vice.

My bones frozen and shatter just as

their considered ice.

Although it's summer, I'm melting in the twilight.
You Are Sick

You're sick.

Don't you ever forget.

The bridges you burned, the lost kids.

How you obsess of control and it's

inevitable.

The walls bend.

You're going in circles with the

visions he casts in.

He penetrates every feeling like he

always did.

He won't let you go and you know-it.

Accept this.

Swarming darkness.

It's about that time again.

Give-in.

But the thing is.

He doesn't exist.

You're sick.

Don't you ever forget.

Don't you let them in.

You'll rape another with your self-

destructive bliss.

Accept the viscosity of your rage.

The overwhelming chemicals that stain

your brain.

You drop out and fade...

There's a reason for the hate.

He assures you and that's why they

never stay.

You're haunted by your own gaze.

Split-down the middle

His brain cracks as it sizzles.

There he is playing a fiddle

Mutilating me as he shrieks a riddle.

His words are visual

and outlined in a giggle.

Then we both see her in a creation

That is her daughter's picture.

Little innocent scribbles.

That beautiful mother in velvet is

spitting dribble.

That waste of a father can't do

anything but belittle.

The echoing reverberation of shame.

This pointless vision turns violent

I hear her screams ignite a flame.

He fizzles just as he flips that damn-

dirty-nickel.

She's touched like I was;

He says, as he sprays.

This is no riddle;

this is merely the darkness of fate.

You're sick...

AND HOW CAN I FORGET WHEN THE WORLD WON'T STOP SPINNING FOR ONE DAMN DAY.

REVERBERATING CACKLES OSCILLATE SO

LOUD,

I.AM. SLAYED.

So he drops away.

Well what is fate.

But a hallucination that guides as it

blames.

We all have prophets.

Well I hope as I pray.

To his golden illusory frame.

Cut free and unchained.

We're not all lucky to be saved.

Nor the perpetual friend of the brain.

The psychotic effect of unsolved

mysteries and disdain.

When you're as sick as this.

All you can do is create.

Two different extremes with one face.

He'll make you fall in love and rape

everything that was.

Maybe it's cause...

He wants everyone to burn like he

does.

So he has to remember.

He's sick.

He can't forget.

Romance has no place, just like

regret.

The past is the flames,

though we are heavy.

We're not dead.

He's lost friends,

but not like this.

He forces himself to walk through the

blaze.

The encroaching forever.

The path he must irrefutably take.

He still loves her;

He admits as the stake,

Penetrates.

Endlessly twisting and turning,

like everything she'd take.

On those shameful mornings,

God how the walls would shake.

Just like every little button she

threw away.

She could never take out the trash,

not even after the three-way.

You're sick, and she'll never come—

back.

Don't you forget this.

You can't,

Because there's always his laugh.

He always dawns that knife,

God how many times he's stabbed.

The darkness you can trust.

The walls may bend;

The laughs may crush.

You may fear for the end,

With those apocalyptic meteors and

floods.

Although, if you listen.

To these dreadful walls accompanied

with their eerie gusts.

You'll see what was.

All the visions will become one,

You'll find that darkness was never

the crutch.

If you listen closely to the

perplexing puzzles, you'll see it.

The demonic sickness that probed us.

This deprecating psychosis.

You're sick,

Don't you EVER forget.

Soak.

_It_.

In.

Sincerely,

Your bellowing psyche of bliss.

P.S.

Don't fear the mist.

You're not living if you aren't

nervous as shit.

– Love, Dudley; With all of his spectral bliss.
Nightmares

&

Psychological Snares

Nightmares wake on the inside.

Visions so fast,

burning picture slides.

I try to wear this mask.

The verbatim; A toxic-sick-sick-mind.

A plane of darkness,

I see him, his black vapors.

Put me in an inevitable catharsis.

Now I'm bleeding out

screaming,

In a dirty rusty elevator.

Crying your name.

Mind never stops it always plays.

Help me,

I can't hold these organs all-day.

Everybody, always goes, can't handle

leaving.

I'm toxic in these lows and I know.

Nothing makes me happy, so here's

something for reading.

His laugh chokes.

A spectral molester, but the finest

bloke.

So dastardly you swear he has fangs

and a tattered-old coat.

It's just me,

Encased in shadows,

Laughing as he gloats.

I see you,

you're flashing those pearls you call

teeth.

Burning in the gallows,

I'm hopeless.

I died years ago,

Six-years-old, totally boneless.

Fed-ex child, they can't control

this.

I never got a say in his.

Jack-the-ripper-grips.

Poising my life.

Haunting me and losing my wives.

SHUT-UP he says,

listen to the madness and see the

golden bliss.

We may be narcissistic but everyone

loves this.

The flash backs eat me alive and I

wince.

Innocence.

So hateful; don't be his friend.

Time changes a man; I feel the end.

Meteors, all-over-again.

An apocalypse rises with sun.

Sadness always makes us give-in.

Why is it I always have to say you've won?

We all feel like graveyards and has-beens.

Because someone somewhere,

just had to win.

Always picking your skin.

Habits killed a man in June,

a year past since...

Not to be rude,

with cold-blunt-truth.

Picking scabs,

Always diving in the past.

You're sick,

but you know that.

I feel it, when floods come in a

swarming flash.

Your mind is spinning way too fast.

Love, death; It seems to never last.

All your relations come in swathing

like a flame.

His laugh; reverberates.

Madness I guess,

Or maybe, I like the pain.

I start to fade, black-magic makes us

obsess.

Death comes in so many different

shades.

The thing; the thought that molests.

they're a psychological stain.

It's obvious,

classic to complain,

if you're raped,

I always liked it best.

Memories just haunt & molest.

Here.

Let me set the stage.

Hold out your ears.

Death it's kind of, the same exact stain.

It's dirty and weird.

Death it's kind of; just like rape.

It nibbles at and whispers in your frail ears.

The disdain.

The hollow rage.

People bottling-up.

Throwing the lives under the bus.

Leaving all the same.

Like so many I knew, and loved.

Still his nightmares.

Talking so loud, laughing like he always does.

Burning and bent with psychotic snares.

He gives it to me straight-up.

His glare pierces, trapped in his

darkened lair.

"Nothing is ever enough."

"Little child little slut."

"Underneath the murky musk."

"I know you don't trust."

"but isn't that always what he does."

Shut-up.

"What a carnival!"

"With a sting."

"Die or let the bell ring."

"Insanity."

"Has some things to show you."

"You suffer with the love you bring."

"You stain, you lying leech."

"You're honestly."

"Just a filthy creep,"

"never knew any better."

"So listen to me."

"It'll always be like this forever."

shut-up, shut-up, SHUT-UP.

Cutting strings,

I can't breathe

The worlds on fire.

I can't think.

Kids are always liars.

Keep it on the inside

or see the beast.

See what we all get for chasing

desire?

Now you're on your knees.

Searching that cabinet.

Medication and drinks,

numb your years,

the nightmares

never let you sleep.

Three-Months later,

you're a piece of shit,

you're a disease.

So much for reality.

The scars, the scabs,

the past,

It's fucking disgusting.

It reeks.

Why is it we all end up with

absolutely nothing?

Eaten-up by what we cannot keep.

No matter the shade,

it always makes you seethe.

A lot of people believe in gravity.

I think they're liars

they don't believe what's happening.

How ignorant we can all be,

blinded by nothing,

eaten-up by our own deceit.

Nothing is born from hate,

but I honestly cannot remember.

Who was worse?

You are me?

before I end up like Pete.

Before my mind brakes,

Hanging by his mother's sheets.

Let go let everything dissipate.

Rest in peace.

Sorrow, molests like a throbbing

grave.

I hope none of us become history.

It's inevitable we all know the ending

to that mystery.

I'm a survivor.

Although I feel like—

The older I get,

my heart just gets tighter.

My father,

always told me put your mind to it.

You can never falter.

You may break,

but if I can,

you can do this.

One day you'll understand.

Addiction is a sexy woman in red with open hands.

Don't trust lust, work on your craft.

You sick, tainted-man.

Staring in his glare.

So write like you can.

crying from psychotic snares.

Waking in sweat from nightmares.

Her caress or his hair.

You need some new memories

For the ones who can never be your

enemies.

For the young who left their

families.

Past all mental illness,

it really is just so hard to be happy.

With bruised fists, we all know this.
Shambles

You have me in shambles my sweet

prince.

Ever since you left this world there's

been this fog;

A new class of mist.

A miasma I cannot fix.

It eats at my innards,

and makes me forget.

It never happened, and then it just

did.

Relapses of loops that have no end.

They never begin.

It always seems, I'm stuck in the

middle of pictures  
I'm on the outside looking in.

I've got eyes on the top of my head

like a humanoid spider with eight

different voices that influence his

gifts.

So don't you dare talk to him.

It's so funny how quickly our mind's

drift.

Into our cranium's abyss.

To the dark caverns of our brains that

are riddled with mist.

That are drowned and suffocated in

myths.

And you're always greeted by a new

fictitious character that is teeming with bliss.

Who you could of sworn was real,

but could never talk about them to

your friends...

No one understands,

Just like how you slashed my plans.

Foaming out the mouth,

dying in your father's hands.

Addiction never ends with it's

disgusting, controlling, demands.

I've lost a piece of my life.

I'm walking in circles screaming where

is my spirit guide.

Pleading with the walls, like they

could give me one more night.

They won't.

Just like you won't ever see the pain

in my eyes.

Traversing memories like a

schizophrenic scientist.

In these fragments you will find your

alliance.

On the outside of this shell,

you'd only be able to hear

the silence.

The truth is I'm always talking to

my fictitious friends.

With them I am enlightened.

Without you, I'm a child.

I'm frightened.

My sweet, sweet prince.

I can't think, I can't wince.

I can't even finish this line,

so go ahead and laugh.

Say you always win;

That this is the greatest troll ever

since...

In the irony, I wish you'd Just take a

damn picture with my daughter again.

We both knew I was the father

that didn't exist.

One of the desperate few

never deserved it.

I still remember how you told me she

still wanted it.

That, she still

loved all of this erratic ignorance.

Even through all the guilt trips.

Although she dissipated with the

mornings mist.

Fading rays as the light bends.

I'll never see her again,

even after three years,

The instant end.

Just like, this.

Sudden disconnection.

The addiction and the heroin

siphoning the grey matter

in your beautiful cerebellum.

Although I'm light years away

My mind dissipates, I'm probably on a

conquest for the world's flame.

Being told that you and your minuscule frame,

Is just trying to break my gaze.

To get inside, just to watch me suffer

and crawl, nibbling on the disgusting

bait.

You just want a new slave.

You just need an escape.

So you can fall through my heart

and give me another scar

for my brittle nape.

All cracked and stoned,

my exoskeleton is my own grave.

But you.  
You'll never open your eyes or ever

be told I like you

but let's wait.

You only have one plan

left to cremate.

You humans and your selfish-ways.

Your swallowed in a tongue of flame.

Nothing will make your corpse raise...

Now time is irrelevant.

My sweet prince, you've made

Everything's all about subtraction.

No matter the thoughtfulness

of the action.

I smile like I'm lying,

because I know nothing will ever

change your passing.

I feel a change in my maniac gods,

and the masses.

Everything looks different, and I'm

fading away to the bleak blackness...

The main attraction...

Dudley... the king of our psyche's

dark & hollow bastion.

The result and creation of too many

failed passions.

Too many souls,

who stretched us out,

made us elastic.  
When in reality

we both knew they were always plastic.

Though we're erratic,

he, keeps us balanced.

In your death... even he is damaged.

Screaming and breaking everything

he ends up grabbing.

All we can see is your corpse.

your dead lips that will never love

another soul.

Even though he's hysterically

laughing.

Even he thinks it's tragic...

It's like some deceitful and vile

black magic.

When we think on it, creatures

surround us with pulsating tendrils

and they're all chatting.

Hanging bodies swaying like their

ropes are ready for snapping.

Thumping against walls

as black tar rises up from our feet

and grabs them.

The abyss's darkest paralytic

blackness.

Those thumping bodies,

are now mutilated from the one

and only onyx brute; rusty savage.

We can't move only witness the

horrific truths of the abyss

and the swarming damage.

What's wrong with my brain.

What is reality.

Your gone, and I'll never be the same.

There's truth in every fairy tale.

Every man has a casualty or heavy

weight they can only mutter at the bar

as a past tragedy.

Some are worse than others,

The most heartless and malicious men

will drink as they say,

Refusing to make connection or any

gains,

No ties and with any hearts to lose in

the rain

I'm my own blasphemy they growl as

they drown their bane.

We're all scared of our own tragedies.

Repeating themselves; illogical

fallacies in our own mental daze.

And we're shrieking

THIS ISN'T REAL.

THIS HASN'T HAPPENED. IT WAS JUST

ANOTHER EPISODE, IT CAN'T...BE...REAL...

YOU WERE ONE... OF US.

Beating on the psycho-prism I built

from his evil mass.

The split persona that mutated into a

defensive distraction.

Failed traumas of the past.

Giving me the emotional support my

mother could never grasp.

But she could be over-bearing, one

simple cat.

Treating me like a monster,

in a gutter.

Giving up, why should she bother.

All I do is stutter, and go erratic

about hearts asunder, that would never

appreciate or plunder.

I would always wonder...

What is this beacon, and where is my

lover.

I still remember,

she said she was done being my mother,

Well you were never drowning in the

flames.

My room became a hell I could

never escape.

Like those atrocious memories stuck

inside me like poisonous picture

frames.

You never knew the haunting fantasies

that plagued my brain.

The toxic chemicals that swim around

my mind frame.

Dropping out.

And here comes the main attraction,

suddenly,

Like when you left us in sudden

slashes.

In your father's arms is all I can see

and I'm drastic.

BUT AT LEAST I KNOW SOMEWHERE IT'S

RAINING.

SOMEWHERE THERE'S A HURRICANE, AND

NATURE ITSELF IS IN THE PROCESS OF

CREATION.

WHY THE HELL DID YOU LEAVE US, IT'S

GOTTA...

IT HAS TO BE SOME FUCKED UP ELABORATE

VACATION.

SOME TWISTED GAME YOUR PLAYING,

YOU'LL SHOW UP... JUST WHEN THE DAWN

WON'T COME, LIKE A PROPHET. A SAVIOR.

Who am I kidding my mind is a dark

ark... and I hear his voice. Cackling

in reverberation.

He says they always go on dying or

leaving,

Shaking me by the shoulders,

screaming.

"ACCEPT, THAT THIS IS HOW YOU'RE"

"FEELING"

"YOU'RE A LYING CORPSE,"

"SO LET IT OUT; BEGIN THE SEETHING"

"IT'S ELEMENTARY MY DEAR,"

"YOU'RE A MUTATED-BEAST"

"AND THE PUSS FROM YOUR TUMORS"

"IS LEAKING"

"LET THE CHOIR GO ON WEEPING,"

"AND THE SICKLY AND PLAGUED"

"GO ON COUGHING, HEAVING, AND WEAVING."

"LET THE LIARS GO ON DECEIVING,"

"YOU KNOW NOTHING CAN CHANGE THIS"

"DISGUSTING FEELING."

"YOU CANNOT SHAKE THE WAX THAT BURNS"

"THROUGH THE SKIN"

"AS YOU TRY TO GO-ON THINKING."

"YOU CAN'T CHANGE"

"THESE PITIFUL SOULS,"

"NO MATTER WHAT FOOLISH THING"

"IT IS THEY GO ON"

"IRREFUTABLY BELIEVING"

"STOP RUNNING AND GET ON YOUR KNEES."

"START PLEADING, JUST LIKE THE COWS"

"AND SHEEPS THAT ARE BRANDED"

"AND MUTILATED EVERY SINGLE SEASON."

"OHH, SPEAKING OF DREADFUL SEASONS,"

"SUMMER SEEMS TO SKIP YOU,"

"YOU'RE A BEHEMOTH OF A DEMON"

"DIVE INTO THE MADNESS AND ACCEPT"

"NOTHING CAN STOP HIM FROM LEAVING."

"OR ALL THOSE WENCHES"

"YOU LET GET AWAY,"

"WHO KEPT ON DECEIVING."

"YOU WERE A BAD JUDGE OF CHARACTER,"

"SO I FOUND MY WAY INSIDE YOUR HEAD,"

"UNLOCKED YOUR POTENTIAL AND NOW"

"YOU'RE ALIVE AND WELL-FED"

"TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF; UNLIKE HIM;"

"HE LET THE DEVIL WIN"

"YOU LET YOURSELF FREE, AND ACCEPTED"

"INSANITY LIKE A BIRTHDAY GIFT"

"FIT FOR THREE"

"THE JUGGERNAUT OF YOUR OWN DECREE"

"IN THE CHAOS OF MADNESS"

"YOU CAN BREATHE, YOU CAN THINK."

"HE'S DEAD AND ADMIT IT"

"ALL YOU CAN SEE IS HIS"

"DEAD WHITE LIPS."

"EXPRESSIONLESS GRIN"

"THAT WILL NEVER LET ANOTHER SOUND"

"ESCAPE HIS MOUTH AGAIN"

"HE'S LEAVING."

"HE'S LEFT THIS WORLD."

"AND YOU FEEL GUILTY"

"BECAUSE YOU LOVED HIM"

"LIKE A BROTHER."

"YOU LET HIM BE TORN"

"YOU'VE FELT NOTHING BUT SELF-HATRED"

"AND SCORN, YOU JUST DESPISED"

"HIS PERSONAL ACTIONS"

"WHEN HE PRAISED THE LORD"

"NONE OF THAT MATTERS ANYMORE"  
"BECAUSE I KNOW WHAT YOU KNOW,"

"AND I KNOW WITH HIS LOSS;"

"HE WAS THE FIRST TIME"

"THERE WAS A TRIO"

"WITH HIM- THE TRIFORCE WAS FOUNDED."

"YOUR KINGLY GLASS JUST HIT THE FLOOR"

"AND IT SHATTERED"

"THERE'S NO IFS, ANDS, OR BUTS,"

"THERE'S NO LOGICAL WAY AROUND IT"

No you're wrong...

Even though I'm by myself, I keep talking along

"HE'S ALREADY GONE."

"NO MORE LAUGHS AND NO MORE SONGS."

"YOU'RE WRONG, SO DROP-OUT"

"LIKE AN INK-BLOT."

"LET YOURSELF BE ENCASED BY PERPETUAL"

"THOUGHT."

"RELIVE THOSE GOLDEN MOMENTS"

"IN REVERBERATION, HE LOOKS LIKE A"

"GHOST AND HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW"

"HOW MUCH HE'S LOST"

"YOU'RE WRONG, HE'S ALREADY LEFT,"

"AND HIS SOUL IS ALREADY GONE."

"APPRECIATE ALL YOU CAN,"

"BECAUSE THIS WAS THE FINAL BATTLE"

"HE EVER FOUGHT"

"HE WAS A REGULAR THORIN OAKENSHIELD"

"AND THE DRAGON SICKNESS WAS THE WAY"

"HE WAS LOST."

"HIS GOLDEN ADDICTION SOLD HIM OUT,"

"HE WAS BOUGHT."

"AFTER ALL HE WAS TAUGHT,"

"UNLIKE THORIN."

"HE COULDNT RISE ABOVE,"

"IT WAS THE LAST BATTLE"

"HE EVER FOUGHT"

Locking him back in his psychotic-

prison.

He continues smashing with a muffled

shriek cracking glass as I have to

repair it so he may never burst free.

"SEE?! YOU NEVER LISTEN,"

"WALKING AWAY LETTING THOSE FISHES"

"TURN TO MINIONS"

"UNTIL THEY SLAP YOUR FACE"

"WITH THE SLIME, WHO AM I JOSHIN'"

"YOU NEVER LET ME FINISH"

I ignore him because I know there is

something so much more incredibly

unbelievable that needs my

attention...

So I prove him wrong

I listen to the stars and galaxies

that are my mind.

I dive down the wormhole

and let the spider in my head

named grimace control my design.

Taking me to foreign places

that are so familiar on the inside.

I feel grimace the grotesque spider

crawl up my spine.

It's so divine and

So creepy at the same time.

He covers every inch of my mind.

His legs control like a guide.

I feel foreign like

I'm not in my own right.

I've stolen this body,

and I must pay the price.

I know, far too well,

You're out of time

So I inhale every memory and let the

chaos fly.

I let emotion be the only guide.

My mind's a messy cemetery

I see your grave and I'm watching

heroin take a piss.

Or rather penetrating you

with its molesting grips.

Digging up your corpse and stealing my

friend.

Moaning against your veins.

As the foam that escapes your mouth it

dribbles down your nape.

As it touches the ground

disintegrates.

Into It's very lands.

Turning it into earthly waste

IT must've been evils mistake

From the putrid cemetery itself,

The liquid's toxins taint this land

And so begins tragic earthquakes.

Falling pieces of earth, along with

forgotten graves.

All labeled memories the drugs threw

away.

As the tainted earth falls and breaks,

It loses itself in the process.

Fire spews from the ground and I

realize this is now a hell.

Everything in existence vanishes to a

shroud.

There is only the nothingness around,

ever since...

My sweet, sweet, prince.

How could you let it win...

I'm missing a chapter of my life.

This cold and vile divide.

You've turned my strive to strife.

I can see your corpse in a block of

ice.

You never even had a wife.

Frozen and out of time.

I'm clawing it so hard I lose my

nails, not only that but I'm in fear

I've lost my mind.

I can only imagine the different ways

you could've died.

I'm missing a chapter of my life.

There were no options, no reasons, no

answers, just you were out of time.

Tripping backwards and half-asleep,

while I'm screaming why wasn't I there

that night.

I'd saw my leg off if it meant saving

you from addiction's sweet, sweet,

lies.

A succubus can be convincing,

and often they can entice.

Though you should never gaze into

alluring eyes.

Danger is often disguised.

Not a man could ever say he survived

it twice.

The palms of addiction molest us and

make us ripe.

I feel my skull strapped to a vice.

Your laughing with that unforgettable

voice.

Your cackles are drowned by my cries.

I never even had a damned choice.

None of us who loved you boy...

I feel like I'm dying every time I

wake up.

I see your face, your cold-white-skin.

Sometimes I even hear you whisper

your own name Jacob.

So I'll never forget, but how can I?

I know just that, you'll never ever

get to wake-up.

Suddenly a chapter had been destroyed.

My gut churns as it's pulled.

We've lost the trio of golden

potential.

As we fed off of each-other like

perfect white noise.

This will become the pinnacle of

change.

There is no forgetting the trio, and

the golden days.

The triforce

and every beautiful moment we all

created.

I don't care about the abuse of trust.

All the wasted years we had our

chest's puff.

As the foolish and the young does.

Their words may be wrong, but their

full of love.

Those dogs dance in the night

underneath the moon, with a pair of

guns.

But one slipped in the mud.

Shot his face a new hole,

Foaming at the mouth, Trauma has a new

definition and it's highlighted bright

& bold.

Now his friend buries his mistake, and

somberly as the night takes its toll.

The encroaching, pounding, thing that

takes presence in his skull.

Up-transcends his friend's soul,

dispersed from this world.

Dissipating into the fades curls, and

whirls.

Those cylindrical portal of wormholes.

That are inescapable due to our own

self-destruction.

After all a great man once said we are

all eaten up by nothing.

We are our own spontaneous combustion.

All flames and embers, we are the

arsonists of our own expulsion.

One dog may be ripping his hair out,

Howling

As his vocal chords tremble,

they're riddled with doubt.

It's unforgettable and it's only been

about 10 days now.

But he's gone from silence to never

moving around.

He stares at the stars and space as if

his mind has left this vessel

and travels one with the essence of

sound.

Lost and unbound.

And no one else has a clue,

no one can figure it out.

A mystery flooding the question "How?"

And Why, why, WHY would he leave now.

I'm a man of mystery and I can't bear

it... This is the one mystery I'll never be able to decipher.

You're just like the joker,

you keep us guessing even when you

go on dying.

Why didn't you call me?

why did you break that promise?

I'll never give up on writing.

I'll swear on your grave this

Christmas, I'll never stop trying.

I'll get a wife

and she'll love me for once,

You weren't just a part of my life.

You were a person who guided.

Even in that silly fedora,

you were something enlightened.

You were such an inspiration.

This life as we call it.

Feels like an alien, and I'm on the

wrong space station.

My mind is with the stars,

and even those seem to be drifting

toward another destination.

Foreign and obscene,

You and I have so many memories.

Why did you have to cut yourself from

the world, I was never your enemy.

You were my spirit guide.

I never could say good bye.

And god dammit, I never got another

high-five.

I was seeing you this Christmas,

it was going to be a surprise.

We were going to drink and stay up all

night, as I told you of the west

coast and convinced you to drive out.

I'd spill the beans,

tell you by your birthday next year

a job is all you need.

Hell, and you would've been with your

best friends and you're damned right

I would've gotten you absolutely clean.

but now... it's just a fantasy.

If I could save your life,

With a light-saber to the face.

I would be on my knees pleading for

the superficial right,

my sweet prince of course

I'd take the dive.

Saying your name.

Penetrates my design.

It makes me weak and vulnerable like I

was when I was a tyke.

I suddenly don't know where I am,

what was it I was trying to find...

Then it strikes...

Terrible Electric binds.

Stopping my mind, as well as time.

Nothing feels right.

Knowing you're not in this world,

my sweet prince.

My spirit guide.

The voltage feels like lightning

sometimes.

I'll never forget that call

and how many days I did deny...

I'm howling, you better wake-up,

but we both know...

Your souls already got its own eye.

All I can see is your corpse, and how you finally...

Ran out of time.

So many trips and you finally bent

yourself backwards

and around your own mind...

I feel your voice sometimes...

it whispers and winds.

It's a figment, and it's all I have

left.

It's not fair it's not right.

You were ripped from the inside.

you could have told me anything,

I still remember those golden times.

You weren't just another face,

you part of the trio,

and now you're one with the world

No more electric feels,

and oohh girls.

I feel as if my heart turned to wax,

as an irritated flame sets it all

ablaze.

Everything melts at once.

As the world fades, the flame rises

and incessantly burns.

I imagine that's kind of

what it was like for you on

that night when you felt your life

fade-away...

I'm still waiting for you to wake up,

and say it was a joke and how easy we

were all to play.

I feel a change is in the air.

It smells of black tar, and burnt hair.  
None of us will be the same anymore.

None of us will even dare.

your grave will be the new garage,

and I

swear.

Your golden friendship was

Something I always adored.

I'll miss you forevermore.

I swear on this, my sire.

And now, you're a lord.

In the endlessness of time,

At least now... you're actually safe.

Maybe not alive... but well.

Rest my sweet prince, Bruce and I will

never let you down,

We've got some stories to tell.

The Triforce is forever,

The members of the trio will never be

changed.

Nor will they forget.

No chance in hell.

Trauma

For some individuals, life is

overwhelming.  
and I have been around for some time.

and I'm not a therapist,

but I have seen some horrible things

in my unimpressive 22 years.

Yes. It is true.  
it shouldn't be overwhelming.  
we should all.  
take it in and embrace everything

thrown our way.

Life should be peaches and daisies;

lollipops and fairy-tales.

but the problem is,

it just is not that simple for some.

And I know.

life has its up and downs, well

mostly, but not like this.

what if you never obtained closure for

that one catastrophic event,

when every day is a vicious reminder.  
you should be triumphant and take your

life by its shoulders.

whether it's an argument, a landslide,

boulder or a mountain, or maybe just

losing your uncle to lung cancer.  
or perhaps losing your innocence.  
torn from your very fingers,

and told it is what friends do.

but, it.

Just.

Isn't.

That.

Simple—

Innocence, is irreplaceable.  
Betrayal is unforgivable.  
and sexual trauma, well I'll be

honest, I don't have a word for it.  
It just... feels like a spider crawls

up my back,

and after sinking its venom, through

its fangs.  
I start to collapse.  
because you don't just escape a past

like that.

It's.

Not.

That.

Simple.

I get looks about my silence.  
or my blank gaze,  
that at times almost seems vacant.

It's.

Not.

That.

Simple.

cause this world we live in,  
not on the outside,  
but deep on the inside, in all the

little houses  
and those "perfect happy families",

inside all of the world's homes.

It's Grimy & Cruel,  
it's Vile & makes me pale, and blue.  
and its.

Not.

That.

Simple.

but I stand here and if you wonder

when your staring into the dark.  
Is it really worth it?

I will tell you yes, but I will fight

the tears.

Because it was,

no it is hard...

It's always hard.  
even at this very still moment.  
even though my bones are shaking to

the point that they would shatter.  
and I tell myself

Silly.

Little.

Destructive.

Things.

All of our lives are worth it.  
Love is worth it.  
I know how bad it can get.  
A Pitch black room.

With no doors, no escape, no corners,

just endless despair,

and circling suffering.  
In which,

you're wrapped in barbed wire,  
and In-between the shrieks & spurts

of blood,  
wailing a name that fades as it

echoes,  
but even then.

It's all worth it,

without that spider sending triggers

down your spine,

without flash backs that leave you in

silence and push you to isolation,

where you so desperately confide.

I assure you.  
I know that gaze,  
and how trauma has infectious ways,  
even in the darkest haze, surrounded

by flash-backs of a never-ending rape.

everyone has a story that should be

told,

all I know is I can't stand to lose

another soul,

to the chaos of trauma's toll.  
your tragedy can become your triumph,

No, it.

Isn't.

That.

Simple.

I lived there in the abyss,  
felt the preying mist, and embraced

self-destructive claws,  
and its perverse whisper.  
And relived every horrible moment.  
my first friend, raped me and

left the country on a plane

the following morning,

and created this safety net,

paradox, my  
greatest need and my crippling fear,

love and acceptance.  
and yes, it.

Isn't.

That.

Simple,

but neither is facing your greatest

fears,  
your tragedies, that are shoved so

far inside of our thick skulls,  
that the thing we hate the most, is

wrapped in a rusted barbed wire.

Split-duality,  
no, no,

tragically melting personalities,

conflicting dastardly,

bastard,

while the other one is laughing,

see?

no?

exactly.

split-personalities born from a

tragedy

Every day since that moment,

my innocence was ripped from me,  
and he's always told me it's

what.friends.do.

caused, all these problems for me.  
but even after all these years,  
of bottling everything up,  
burning every beautiful bridge that

crossed my path.

no matter, how many nights, it gets

pitch-black.  
No matter how many times it gets bad,  
No matter how many times it gets dark,

and you're thrown into the pitch

black room.

isolated, to your own suffering.

no matter how many have promised,

and praised me,  
the first time,  
and the second time,

but by the third they were tired,  
and by the fourth,

they were gone,

even though I am still here,  
I've cracked and had my faults and bottomless falls.  
and every time I speak,  
I hear his voice,  
underneath mine,

and you'll notice,  
my speech break,  
and my bright eyes begin to vibrate

and shake.

best friends, who rape little boys,  
as much as that frustrates.

and clings to the back of my neck,

like a spider I just can't quite

catch.

it IS worth it.  
I swear to you,

that is the truth,

it may not be simple,  
you may even at times regret it.  
but every second you breathe is worth

it.

every person's life you touch,  
every second you are alive,  
no matter the trauma, or the

setbacks,  
even if you feel your life

is just a sporadic cluster-fuck

of betrayal.

it may not be simple, at all.  
but...

it.

is.

all.

worth.

it.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Joshua Wilmoth was born in 1991.  
He was born & raised in Texas, primarily residing in Houston. He lives in San Francisco, being twenty-four he's been writing since he was the rough age of nine. He had a rocky-childhood. An avid lover of fantasy and comic-books. Although, Joshua was a child of sexual trauma and mental illness, he overcame it. Much like J.R.R Tolkien, Joshua overcame his traumas through his writing. It became therapeutic for him. He finds solace in words and the magical places you can not only create—but take people to. Joshua finds a certain beauty in trauma. He still deals with his issues as a Major Depressive. Regardless, writing & reading poetry, (his own & many others) has not only helped him grow and heal but also learn from his wounds. Through his writing he hopes to help others just as insight, pain, and loss, bluntly taught him. Joshua is currently hard at work, writing extensively, preparing his first novella for his fantasy universe "Dome-Wyrd". ("Dome Wyrd" is A gothic translation of "Doomed Fate") The first of nine, ready for release.

