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Hollow Steve Jul 2018
I think I'm letting go.
It drains itself dry and drains itself some more.
I think I've had enough.
What barrier can I create to protect this psyche?
Head like a haunted house.
We're surreal, sublime.
Can't get it out of myself.
And these noises get louder.
We're surreal, sublime
Tell me where the other half lives?
One lives half dead.
The other went missing.
I loved you to death
and the hate lives on.
Gray ghosts haunt these halls.
Hollow Steve Jun 2018

   I declare my void sanctuary. Its rhythm makes me fall, its vibrations make me crawl. As I sit on a stone, I gradually become a statue. The plastic melting in the fire, I'll soon become toxic fumes. Sometimes the fire sparks anew, a breath of mine that remains a clue. Is the aftermath a blessing or did poison strike my veins?  The venom, singing its purple sound inside my ears. I inhale enlightenment through pain, as if that's who I'm supposed to be. Please bring clarification, please bring a sign. I'm tired of being confused, this yin-yang abuse. As if the light were a monastery, then my void will be sanctuary. This clueless victim always knew his journey, his mistakes. The acknowledgment came far too late though, so refuge took hold of my chest. My chest is now void.  

                                      Jealousy's rhythm    


Jealousy is the song of insecurities; I sing his masculine tune. The fever can't be sweated out, the anger won't subside. I thought this was made by you, but my thoughts portray just me. Clearly my aura remains damaged or I'm just plain stupid. A gullible fool filled with fiction and paranoia. They make for a good writer, yet an alcoholic at that. Recognition became an empty shell; there's no pearl inside, just a buffoon. I am swayed by malevolence, you are benevolence. I searched for an angel, yet I became a demon. When the clouds disperse and the rain dries up, will you walk this sunny day with me? Will you stay? I see another storm coming, at least today we played.



   Insects crawling up a wall, getting squished when approached. No thought about it. Just fear, just anger. A fever crawls up the body, crashing and failing the immune system. A weak body makes for a good recipe of sickness, his guts spewing out of him of course. You can't contain the virus; you can not contain the beast. His morals set him apart from man, but man lacks true judgement. Who are the real beasts? Men being swayed or a man abiding his own morals? Cast away the negative aspects of self, build on the empire of light and goodness. Just when I thought I could keep a strong will, I decayed in my own sickness. I am lovesick.

June 2013
Hollow Steve May 2018
If a wish was true,
And nothing else was  permanent.

I'd have some sort of relevance,
nothing really.
Just a point of others distances,
Its not like we're truly alone
Maybe not

How else do you help the others...
*** helllp themmmm everyonnnnnenenenenefuckkkkkk
Hollow Steve May 2018
Do I sense them flying all around?
Just a possible outcome
of neurons criss crossing
into paranoia.

How do I transmit these frequencies?
If not I, then why you?
Each proportional stance,
attempting to make an advancement.

Sounds more like daydreaming,
but you hear me in your head,
Poke. Poke. Poke it goes.

Invisibility makes its stance.
The body can wither,
but thought
Are outside and
Non physical

Forgive me..
I lost my train of thought.
Hollow Steve May 2018
Classy child performing his seance,
grasping whatever he can.
Not like he craves anything.
He prefers non eyes.
I call him, It.
Crazy and belligerent.
It deems to make so some changes..
Just tentacles spilling all around.
No worry.
Another sip took,
another note noted
It slips and slides and ends....
At some point.
It was idiotic to begin with.
I shouldn't ever have even started..
But composure pushes me otherwise.
Poking it's eyes.
It's been a while.
Do you even see where you're going?
Not the drinkers,
only the clown..
Only the mime..
Hollow Steve May 2018
Just push onward,
like mistakes occuring without reason.
Entanglements compromise,
as motions adjust
to the next exemption.

Flaws arise,
but don't dictate indefinite behavior.
Mistakes to follow or allow,
as compromise is compromised.

Such an indulgence on
self reflection.
Taken and grafted like
webs to graft onwards.

Just a mid-line
walking across the segment.
It's not like much'll change...
Just different forms of similarity.

I wouldn't trade my own mistakes at all....
Just the forms holding me prisoner.
I wouldn't,
just get up again.
Hollow Steve May 2018
Just pour it out and let it surmise,
like some being with purpose to define.
It's not like it'll change much,
but the expression varies
the personal touch.

It came, it lofts, it synchronizes,
it regrets.
It'll soon be over.
Lights are coming.

They caress, they tighten,
they fool.
The whole is not complete.
It takes itself down,
and insignificance follows.

It's not like it'll let it wallow.
It's just a story after all,
told in different ways.
Over and over again.

There's not much left to say,
but whatever's to be said next.
The perplexities of life's agenda,
always moving forward.

No course.

Just distance.



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