her tongue
so craved his bitterness

thirsty for his
passion filled thrusting hips

her hair
pulled to the side
as her indulgence begins

infidelity's sin has him lusting for her absurdly hard nips

all hell breaks loose... ..

once he
slides in

what are you running from?

inevitability?

joy and laughter?

they seem to be lost forever in an urn full of ashes

his daily evidence of this?

empty liquor bottle after empty liquor bottle he releases from his numb hand to drop,
crash and left to mingle on the floor with the others

one's death has inspired another's death

ebon spirits beg for his soul

"drink up you wretched soul" they beg

"we await your tortured soul so that we can,
torture it some more"

upon his death,

joy and laughter died and turned every day into endless night

the shadows never leave

their abundance
now comforts him as his only company... ..
'friends'

"drink up"!

he wrote
about
ensnaring
her in
an
intricate
spider's
web.

she lies
prone,
sprawled...

vulnerable
and
just about
paralyzed.

he
meaningfully,

slowly
meanders
in...

she
refuses
to
fight it.

rather,

she has
been
knowingly
longing
for a
night
of
paralyzing
seduction
with
him.

hard-
cold-
angry-
bi polar
has been
my
personality
for
years
now.

pick...
pick

pick...
pic­k.
­
it only
takes
one
memory
and,

i
arrive
OUTSIDE
myself
once
again,

always
knowing
how.

pick...
pick

pick....
pick,

ever­­yday
i
pick at
my
scabs
my
wounds
my
past.

i wait
for
loose
gravel
under
my feet
to
scuttle
at
long
last.

one
time
in life,

i
was a
child
that
saw
life
as an
everyday
playground.

now?

i
pick....
pick

pick....
pick.

i
wait
to discard
this
defeated
frown.

i
wait
for
my
life
to drown.

i
wait
for
them to
come
leave
tears
upon my
cemetary
mound.

i...

i wait
for
death-

and
my
childhood
to
once
again
be
found.

i...

i wait
for
MY
death-

to
no
longer
make
a sound.