Everything, every move I make is
part of a war between my body
and myself, a war against Time,
really I don’t know which side
I want to win

But it’s out of my hands now,
Or has it always been?

In therapy they tell you
that you’re always in control,
The voices only have the power
to suggest you take that blade
to your skin, or shove your
fingers down your throat,

But you, you’ve got the power to decide what your next move is,

I don’t believe that,
I don’t believe my body
is a kingdom under my rule

I believe that my body is
a vessel in which dark things
inhabit, control, destroy

my body is a
vacant motel that welcomes
strange men smelling of whiskey
to hole up in for the night and not
look at the wreckage they’ve left
behind in the morning,

because I’m not empty,
I’m just full of all the wrong things,
I’m just full of things that won’t stay
long enough to call me home.

- S.G.

Today I read an article proving not only that the story
of his resurrection was a lie, but that Jesus never lived.
He was not half-man half-god, he was less than that,
much less; a fabrication of Caesar’s imagination
created as a Matrix for the Roman Empire,

today I read an article that could’ve shattered me
if I still believed in anything at all.

- S.G.

there is no such thing as unconditional love, only Stockholm Syndrome.

what do you need from me?
what are you leeching off of me for,
when I’m not even your blood type.

you might as well be main-lining
******, or downing all the pills in
your medicine cabinet,

I’m not your saviour,
I’m suicide in human form,

when you look at me
what do you see?

do I read eat me?
drink me? take me once
a day with food and drink?

You know the answer,
you know that I’m empty,
void, a river that’s run dry,

you know exactly how this ends,
because I’m not your saviour,
I’m suicide in human form.

- S.G.

I saw your lover in my dreams last night,
you might never get him back again,
but I can’t get him away from me,

I kissed your lover in my dreams last night,
softly, sweetly, and it hurt worse and felt better
than anything I’d ever felt before,

I ****** your lover in my dreams last night,
and it felt like nothing compared to the guilt when
I realized that I loved your lover in my dreams last night.

- S.G.

If my fear of falling

is really just a fear of the part

of myself that wants to jump every

time I stare off the top of a building,

If I’m not afraid of needles,

just afraid that I’ll grow to

need them, afraid that

synthetic happiness is the only

kind I’ll ever find,



If I’m not afraid of love,

but of the way lust disguises itself

so innocently and then rips out

the core of it’s victim’s being,

Then tell me, why am I afraid of you?

- S.G.

Keep your hands away, don’t look at the thick of my hips, I don’t feel small enough for your love today.

- S.G.