this keeps me daunted from the haunted houses and bottled wines sitted and lying down the bench with the glaring spotlight above casting a smaller shadow of my ego and my shattered self-belief.

crying with a bottle of wine

a left hand for the nicotine, another hand for the holy alcohol; I try not to think about death but he craves for my heartbeat down through the darkness and oblivion forever silencing my faith. I hear the screaming silence and the caged agony beneath my soul.

i will mourn for the death of my happiness yes i am vulnerable like a starving naked man whipping and lashing out the inner physicality and dual virtues of our humanity.

i will follow what I want but I will give them what they need;

let my thoughts bleed and fly high on the sky of fallen angels and let the baphomet drag me below the caverns of the rocky earthly world as he welcomes me to eternal damnation
all just because i’m


crying with a bottle of wine.