Saturday Night.

I have no need to explain myself,
I am what you created.
As the artist who painted this canvas,
you especially should understand
the portrait I call myself.
If you find me to be a disappointment,
it’s your own **** fault.
I catch myself forgetting the
little things about you,
My puzzle is left unfinished.
Secretly, I believe
that I am somewhere in the middle of
Life
and
Death.
Just waiting until
I get the courage to close my eyes
and take the escalator
up and away from
Void's emptiness.
Into the heightened arms of Love.
Catch me, if I fall.

Sunday Morning

Time flies by
and I'm still here lost without you.
I am someone that
came from nothing at all.

All i can remember from that night
was,
running home to the Sun.

I found myself passed out beside a toilet.
I got a hangover and fresh start.

Throwing down my towel.

To lay,
on top.

Of the
mausoleum...

So I can,
work.

On my tan.

Hating every second of it.
Sulking in the sunlight.

Cause
I'd
rather
be with you.

In
the
shade.

Oh Baby, you've done.

Captured my essence
and made me think
that
I
exist.

For a
slit-wrist second
in "time".

Until them sparks
make fire.
& take you up in his flames.

A bad dream.
Filmed right between my
starry-eyes.

Soul Photography,
uhhhh
Flashbacks of missin' you.

Until then,
I will be all black
& nothing more.

Than a wannabe-writer in the
mourning.
And a secret-screamer at night.

Giving up,
giving in
& going down
hard.

On the gas.

Oh you know,
not giving a ****
&
flying down the free way.
Like a bad *****.

Till I crash
back
into your arms.

The race is over.

Going out,
getting good.

All gothed-out,
glamorous.

Drop-dead.
Gore-geoous.

It's a curse.
Only
the truly beautiful at <3,
have it.

Talent.

Get it.
Dig it.
Dug it.

GOOD :)

I am just every drop of blood
the razor blades
made
me.

Drag downers
dragging themselves along
the skin surface
of my blood-flow
free way.
Wrists.

While,
I am screaming.
"I hate you" .

At the top of my black-tar
******
coated-codine lungs.

Yogurrrrr?
Help a ***** out.
&
go check on that crack pipe.
Uhhh.
I mean check the pipe for crack.

Cuz dem smokey rocks
make a bruthah go
cray-cray.

Welcome to the Goth Opera.
I'm just playing pretend,
anti-christ tonight.

In every bad-day-dream,
you have ever had.

There was always
a giant
Silver Serpent.

Staring at you.
&
Just a slithery second
away from your ******.  

That little ghost-tail.
Apparition-creature-thing.
That everyone seems to talk about?

While he is.

Slithering in through
the cracks of your mind.
&
Out of your hollowed out
graveyard heart.

I say, Astro.
Don't chu know?
Ya can't trick him.
Cause he is many years dead,
before you.

You can visit, him.

You just need a
different air-plane
to travel in.

Think about it.....

You little astral-star,
you.

Need to listen, closely.
Serpent talk
is
simply shady-speech
for
slutty-scummy-snakes.

I jumped into a gleaning pool
And falling through a window,
I slipped into a setting world
Of dying suns and waning light
Scorched by fire and cracked by ice
This oscillation of two extremes
Had wrung it tight and left it limp
A withered world between the seams

And with no bridge or exit sign
I passed my time in wandering
To see what wonders might be left
Within this desert scene

Down swept my ghost like steps
Along some winding dusky path
Until I reached a sea in stillness
as if dead from some gods wrath
And I swam those warm still waters
As paling suns began to sink
So paler stars might ***** all parts
Of all my eyes could drink

And diving down into the silence
I smiled sweetly within the deep
While rising back at my own risk
Heaven itself began to weep

The stars themselves served as tears
Dripping down the faceless sky
Burning out in the atmosphere
Burning bright, afraid to die
Burning up they screamed to earth
And with dull thuds of finality
They landed cleaving sea and land
Only I in peace went free

And on that smooth black sandy beach
I stood and watched them rise and fall
With the water still lapping listless
separate yet a part of all

Laughing ghouls walk among us
Wearing masks of men
Their hollow eyes betray their guise
Revealing where they've been

From the darkness of our dreams
Sad emotions gently seep
Infecting those with tepid lives
Too afraid to creep

Joints creek and bones rust
As silent souls begin to fade
Dry lips crack fetid grins
As men they masquerade

I
don't want to
exist.
In
a
love-less
lust-lost
home either.

Let's run-run-run
run-away
to better
days.

Run away
from everything,
from everyone
to everywhere
and anywhere.

We deserve to look outside
the windows of a home,
not
a
half-orphan-orphanage.

The sun is shining somewhere.
Let's
go
sulking in the sunlight.
<3

Goth Glam was a 2010 daydream.

I’ve detached myself
So far
From everything
That
When I got there
I realized,
I was staring at the very
edge of nothing
In the
Darkest parts of
Outer-mental space.
Space
Is
Cold&Empty;
So I am.
Here’s to finding
Light in darkness.
Until then,
I’ll be
Swimming in the slimming,
Black Sea.