he seeps into me
fracturing each bone
contorting each muscle
The rich creamy nonsense of it all
Like a dark chocolate pudding filled with raisins; contrasting in the most horrific way

We don't fit
we just don't
there is no explanation
there is no burning fire
no raging passion
just a thousand pieces of broken china laying on the floor, never to be collected, or reassembled

I feel the darkness
it welcomes me
and washes over me with deep calming breaths
this was never going to work.

The monster of insanity stuck it's fist down my throat,
tore out my sanity, 
and it's watching me bleed out. 
Tell me, why is the monster dancing?

Fangs so jagged, 
tearing my flesh, 
leaving me skinless. 
Is this all because I'm weak,? 
Nothing more than a putrid pile of dying flesh. 
Can this all be undone? 
Insanity, sharpen these teeth, 
take them as a trophy, 
I am nothing more than a horror show 
with only trophy teeth to show for it. 

A mass murdering beast, 
Keeping you just alive, torture. 
Chain saw massacre, 
Where you haven't been cut entirely through, 
Metallic taste on plump ****** lips, 
All the stories that can only be whispered now, 
Never heard. 
I'll tear out bullets from purple skin, 
Darling, hold the gun. 
A slowing heart beat, 
Locked forever in a glass coffin,
Another trophy.

my vices are devices
through which ideas flow from my mind
as readily as ink flows to my skin

they allow me to express
the beauty of sitting still for an hour
with nothing on your mind

while these cigarettes
burn through a year to my life
and the courage that flows through my veins  
is supplied by my local thought dealer

a key to my mind
its seems that i an unable to write
what i think what i feel
without this passage of time
in which i may not have
full control of my mind

but what is a few years of my life
to sacrifice
if i can show how its meant to be alive

and i can live and love and laugh
as much as the next person does

but i must cut a bit deeper than the knife
in the gloved hand of fate
that denies me this wish

this wish to be free of what you call bliss

i write so i am
i think just because
but these words do not flow
without some from some cause