a not so great tele.pol.art session :(

tired of the trails my life leads me on...

in the sand of English Bay

shake and stir - oil and water
shedding the tears of boiling blood
forcing the ties twined in ropes
enclosed in chapped of illusions glass
misleadding thoughts and shimmer blurry vision
silhouettes of beasts from your lies released
growing in me this unfamiliar evil
triggered in purest of innate loves
dirt of memories in unhealed wound
over and over stabbed by of your being void
gory in mirror reflection of me emptied and stripped
for food of my heart you simply pulled
and left me to bleed
these tears
tears of blood

left to be captured...

I believe I have developed somewhat of an addiction for telephone poles :)



how unimportant is this moment of my sadness
compared to billion years of its existance

how sad is this torn piece of paper on which I place my healing words

yet how much it hurts this being of mine
that took billions of years of (un)godly creation

beauty of mistake

...how i feel these days: stripped, left aside, no longer tasting or colorfull

2:36 AM

flares the candle in the corner of my solitude
melting wax of once our bodies' love

shimmer away your deep brown eyes
break away; my heart molded within yours

soft skin your lower lip sticking to
heat against cold of your left inner thigh

embracing cold within lust coated sex
sillhouete dancing tango with soldier of lead

casual monogamy stiffening vapor of love
confused in heat of suceptable lust

pupils' sting; unexpected morning sun
regret belated; pupils soaked in unwanted tears

rushing strips on road stabbing heart within

run run run away

contrAddict

of sickened love
sickened of love