scipio-africanusWhisper

American
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A day before to live once more.Got got by bobby heady sleep eaters / Learned a living frameless / Never would I change this
3
Mar 13, 2013
AnymoreThings are tasteless anymore, I thought that I would have come full circle by now; I have not. My pallet is wet and dripping with hunger for what? Yet the thought of satiating this ****** need causes a kind of reeling from somewhere deep within. There is something of a beast with holding the answer from both this page and myself. It is quite the monstrosity that I find now and again, its claws digging and tearing at the base of brain stem and spine. It softly whimpers, giving away its position for all to hear.
1
Mar 12, 2013
As if only to sigh.Paintings hang high on walls and in fancy frames / Music blows through the ear as hot wind whispers / Talk is called cheap at blind book signings
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Mar 12, 2013
BenignBenign was yet another passer by to predisposed mentality / But both secretly wished somewhere beneath their tempers, demeanors, and myths / For the other to beg pardon for salvation at last; trading their ghosts and their pasts
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Mar 12, 2013
***** ****Not complaining, it's just all these god forsaken *** semon demons, suckling sucubus / Take my animal, then sell the stock, it's high treason / Contraptions arachnid, stick it to me ****** and shmozy.
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May 8, 2013
BoxzMunificent two-act plot / Bug in a box; exasperate traded space by rule of fate / Savior rides high horse curse
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Mar 12, 2013
Closer, CaptainCome closer. Should you wish to that is; believe me, I empathize with your apprehension. By now I would guarder such hope; as one stepping further into the web that surrounds this deathbed. Perhaps that makes a spider out of me. With patience shall I wait for any and all whom hunger in the pangs of their own curiosities as one draws ever near. Those that will tug away the webbing cob of my fading lair must heed this final warning. What one may find down a set of stairs, through a door and then some more may startle and surprise you. I may yet breathe, palpitate still with the ebb of life. Think less of this than the latter for if I have gone, know that I: your drooling host have become the scent of the air, the scatter of amassed earthen wares. The venom of my soul tips the edge of each and everything that I have never owned. As I render this tome know that my face is pressed flush to the in-perceivable glass, the lens that parts the hallowed derision between this life and the next. Do not blink, my guest, for this is a staring contest.
1
Mar 12, 2013
DisclaimersThings we used to be / Or rather that which we are still / We as in I
29
Mar 12, 2013
drawkcabBackward now, to when I knew you, to when you knew me. Can you remember? Because I can’t seem to forget… / “What to do about nothing?” Its just who we were or what we became I suppose. There are always those who have marched under this banner and there will be many more still; us lost boys needn’t double take the waving motto that danced above our heads. No second-guessing the ephemeral, for we held tightly to the only certainty we had.
2
Mar 12, 2013
Eden's peach trail. {[#434]}As if to come upon a limb a dangle / Over arch the canopy bramble / And strung from this twig pious and vile
11
Mar 19, 2013
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