I've been venting to these Kings lately
about my problems
and they can't solve them
but still I talk
cause sometimes all we
need is somebody to listen to
what everybody else brushed off

& what I call Nonsense,
may be your Last Reason for Living
and if so,
**** just let me go hop off
**** me if I hated on you
I'm still learning where I'm
supposed to knock,**** still totally lost
but its cool because I just
lost my heart but not my cause.

before he left me there to rot
he kissed me on the cheek
he whispered in my ear i wasnt special
aint no different
was just like every other girl he turned down for me
like none of our time together ****** mattered
thats what hurt the most but now im better for it
ive never felt more special than after you said i wasnt special
pain didnt humble me

No matter how dark it's going to get
Before you go, let me show you the light
Do not forget that Life is not a part of Death
But Death is a part of Life

Nothing is more sad
than the Death of an illusion

You’re wide-eyed blinking at that wall,
You’re on the other side
You’re still shocked n' pretty shook
thinking that you just can’t die

But please don’t be surprised
if the next time
You're staring down
the Sewer’s Porcelain Eye,
The clock strikes 12,
it chimes for midnight
But this time
you don’t make it out alive

No resurrections
No second tries
You already used them all up
On the times you OD’ed
All alone on those
Solemn weekday nights

So better luck next time
In this game we call life
Because this time
you ****** up;
Made mistakes so bad
even I couldn’t revise

A pack without a leader
can be a dangerous problem to solve
because once the rest perceive you as weaker
that's an even bigger bullet to dodge.

But a wolf without a pack
that's a different story to tell
because he alone can choose where to go
and not be slowed by anyone else

my days are feeling colder,
even with all this liquor

biting my lip is my catharsis
but the blood’s been tasting extra bitter

all this raining in the darkness
has been causing me to shiver

don't understand why though
because we’ve long since past winter

While you’re laying by my side
Everything feels almost right
But when I gaze into your eyes
I realize it’s just a reprise of lies

So I'm talking to myself again
Busy typing messages I’ll never send
Yes, I know; it's just lust in disguise
But it's still fun to revel in
Society’s demise

& while I deplore our disdain
It doesn’t matter anyway
Cause we’re all searching for the change
While wanting to remain the same
And that’s why you’ll die out
Faster than you came

Nobody knows until they go,
That knowledge stole the innocence
Right out of your soul

And now where do you go?
You knocked;
But nobody’s home
And you still gotta take cover
Before the Nightwalkers roam

So you’ve got no place to go
Abandoned family cause “you’re grown”
Turned a home into
A house with plenty of holes
Decorating all the doors

But once the sun falls,
When your eyes gleam
You’ll do anything to keep
from recalling all of those volatile scenes

And now you can't fall asleep;
Just cause a few memories
Sneak up on you,
And you can't help but peak

Rapidly, you’re falling into
depressing thoughts
Instead of falling asleep.

Nobody knows until they go
That knowledge stole the innocence
Right outta your soul
Right from under your nose

By the time you know, it's way too late
Cause the world has long since taken that
Piece of your soul.

You looking at her
But you're winking at me
  Checking on me,
Turn by turn where to go

  But I still don't ******* know
Which way we're supposed to roll
Or how much 'til you overdose

    It's too foggy in thought
So we're lost in my head
  Here we are,
Plotting on each other again

    Maybe it's time we outgrow this overflow
Even if it looks like it's just all for show
  'N I dare you,
  Ask me again;

    Cause I'll clock you right in your throat
Cause I still don't ******* know
  But I do know in Reality,
We out here lost on the Road.

So, here's the cache:
Make sure
all & any & every
single move you make
you won’t regret
in years or even days
keeping you at 3am
in the bath wide awake

So
as a preventive
bound tight to this vow, I stay

say what you mean
& mean what you say

Like champange with *******,
you'll have been overcame with duende
for this phrase

& it’ll keep your subconscious feeling clean
while you continue to slay away
at just your normal hygiene for today
or maybe a few disarrayed prey
it'll even help trick it when you actually are totally aware
you’re instigating & quite quietly steering
some rather nasty foul play

but besides the fact the move’s today
and still, I attempt to cajole
and I’m now regretting not only an action
but a whole section
an entire chunk of my life spun out and
became some mangled & ******-up black hole

& the worst part is, its long past,
I mean it's looooong since slipped outta my control
& it's long past me being the one looked to for decisions
& its long past when I sorta lost
all & any & every
bit of possibly existing trust

& long past, I just now noticed it all
mid-through one of countless attempts to self-console
because when I went crazy, everyone still called me Superman

Because when Superman bumps his head,
who’s gonna get past the Super in Superman
and ****** pick him up and put him back on solid ground?

Because that’d really **** if Superman wound up dead
Because no one thought the dude that shut down the Ku Klux ****
Could be uncrowned &
end up all bled out & drowned

your eyes don't glisten like they used to
just saying it's not something usual for you
so I guess you're heavily imbued
with this crestfallen attitude?

yea I know,
I've changed in the same way
my own little reverse-breakthrough
Risque foreplay with ultramarine Bombay
before stepping in to emcee the Devil's soiree

And no, you really don't --and honestly never did-- know me;
you only knew one of many façades I brazed
on my face
in the midst of a cliche
New Year's day typa haze

During the phase of
my infamously tempestuous craze
I was precipitously (ignited
quite possibly by my own
flaring sparks)
set ablaze with praise
but my mores seem to be misplaced
probably somewhere in the frenzy and hysteria

So I guess I'm left to embrace my untraced boundaries
*And get my viridian eyes back to glistening
on their own viridescent terms
Not codependent on the hollowed adulation
and sweet-talk from bamboccioni

She who cannot hex, cannot heal.
She who cannot curse, cannot cure.

She’s a sweet little thing;
a Moonflower’s paradigm
enjoying sweet isolation & silent slumber by day,
waking up to start her magick escapades
after society’s bedtime

Self-disciplined & at times
knavishly upping the ante
But I can guarantee you
It’s always revealed in the end
the intent she directs at you is
never anything, besides good.

and unannounced observers
you may catch her dancing around the kitchen at 3am,
maybe writing her Galdr spell-songs,
maybe causing mischief
with Hermes or Laverna, (as usual)
maybe testing her gifts this Völva has bound to her mane
Because for her, that’s a way better vessel than any pendant on a chain

And remember: When she dances,
if she shakes her hair, her power is twice obtained.

So if you’re hooked on schadenfreude,
Cease and desist; Please knock that **** off.
Because, at the very least,
you’ll be returned with what you’ve caused.

But if someone’s harming you
or you’re being hurt, but confused
whether the root of tormenting
brews with a What or a Who

Go ahead, take a deep breath
Dolour will be overcame
your Spirit’s to be momentarily reclaimed
the Völva’s arrived
and her prowess resides with
cures and curses alike.

**She who cannot hex, cannot heal
She who cannot curse, cannot cure.

//I swear I just have the same subconcious pattern every time with just waiting when I'm bordering extinction --
like maybe on someone throwing a lifesaver ?

I'm literally someone's-accidental-bumping away from
falling off this escarpment,
A selcouth flower-drenched meadow just last week,
now all-of-the-sudden barren and pretty grim plateau

On the edge of extinction,
Do you retreat, or put up your last fight?

I feel an urge to dismiss all and jump off the edge.
Besides, Extinction is probably the name of our parellel realm.
and they probabaly say "be careful! you're on the edge of Reality."//


But that’s just a lone-sweet picturesque visualization from my esteemed friend, Imagination.
Sadly, yes, everything just mentioned was just daydreams occuring while sparking others’ sangfroid.


So when this little Miss Cure-Chaser
finally gets a breath-
n it’s honestly usually more like half;
I realize that I just gave out the last drop
of my spirit’s nature to a stranger

when I realize this,
I also see that
no one paid heed to
the healer in need of healing
bastardized by the Real-Life
Nightmare of Californication

I forget the grace
residing in my survival;
When I’m all dished out,
When healing’s lost my fervor,
Scorching my lovely Fylgja.
Meanwhile my soul’s alongside
taking it’s toll, it’s Californication.

I throw on my once-was, back of the closet
Hot Mess resolution
a Way-Too-Tight black dress
And a shoe-like lace up back.
I turn to the mirror, and as I wink I say **** it.
It’s Californication,
and I’m its ******* Counterrevolution.

No one ever plans on getting addicted
It's just for ***** and gigs in the summer
Until your Time derails and redefines horrific
now presenting:* Time, Version 10-50
and she's prolifically sadistic

Oh & never forsake:
Time's strung out alongside you,
Every.
Single.
Hit.*

And she's one haphazardly twisted
tantalizingly commited mistress
--Also, it seems we were *just now informed
that it's way past Christmas.

Now a hot mess,
forlorn & seditious
Not to mention royally ******
by Mistress Time, still for sure
a 10-50 in progress

Needless to tell you,
we contradicted our predictions
Now Mistress Time's
throwing an egregious conniption

even though I know hearing
Self-Inflicted
makes for turned cheeks and Alienation,

Exigently,
if you please
I'm in dire need
of someone else's Time
To assist in the Valediction
of this debilitating infliction
so innocently called Addiction

I've always felt I was a sunflower
dancing around
with my scintillating akratic vibration
  the riviting opia long since latched;
  quick to your raunchy defeat
just remember to catch your breath
because so far,
every and each
lascivious contender had
forgotten to breathe.


But I just now had my
little-girl fantasy smashed wayy down
Hit with a 2x4 in the face;
it's also pretty infamous under the a.k.a. Reality,

I mean who else could cause
that severe of a frown
on the little girl
who parades around town
in a princess gown and crown?

I'm now living with Reality;
And apparently I'm ******* Snow
Cold-Hearted and Alluring
Striking was actually the word used
But Reality couldn't possibly know
who I was before I was "striking"
Besides, didn’t Reality strike me first?

Struggling ain’t fun
whether your wallet’s getting tight
or your mind’s outta rhymes
Money and wits prevents all kinds of strife

And at the end of the day
I want success clearly stated in my pay
and my brain learning so much,
I get a blurring headache;
Like back in school,
Remember on occassion, math for two hours straight?

I just wanna taste opulence
No more economic or mental
Chains of Restraint
I just need to realign
Now entwined with this Sigil
for Wealthy Wallet and Mind

The Name's Selcæiös N.V. Witega

The N.V.'ll only **** you if you're a curious cat.

   Your Tech-Age Völva
Onliest Healer
Avant-garde Seeress
& Upping the Ante
Once under my Wing
--a Sui Generis sorta catalyst

   But take note,
I'm only here for your healing
---and occasionally to quench the thirst
for all types of Second Sight
weaving, seething, and
any and all other appealing witchy hype

   And this niche in the Craft
Contingently consecrates
--you know. when it rains, it pours--
the Superseding of Spirit;

   Under the Utopia of Unorthodox Psychotomimetic Wonders
enthralled by your scintillating mishap to wander
Gracefully falling face-first into
     The Empath's Curse
in other words, to come to terms with Sonder

   Dyed in the wool
lies the
Fluorescent & Incanting Sparks
of the
out-of-place-even-for-you
outre wanders

   To me though,
It's vividly violent & evincing
Capitulated roars,
Sequestered howls,

   Once Upon a Time
the proud growls morphed
to crying whines
   'Carpe Omnis Scintilla'
In Perpetuum,
to no avail.

  Your Sui Generis Hedge-Rider
Call me Selaecios N.V.
or Selcaeia, if you like
the sting of serpentine strides

  I'll proudly continue to
uphold this chaotically labile path
as it's my Labyrinthine Rite

  Taking under Wing
Protecting & Defending
Fellow Humans & Spirits alike.

It's built to be a Dollhouse
so no one would fathom what treasures lay inside
No judgement or hesitations could be formed
& those coming out would stay untried

Unpredictable's crazy sister runs the place
She's truly endearing--
In the rare case she doesn't sense your
Exposed fears seething

But no worries going in!
As long as your tendencies aren't combative
and your head's outta your ***
and your phone's outta your face

You'll be posthaste to a resonating reverence
for this wonderfully eccentric/benevolently psychotic place
As long as you play nice, you won't have any deadly problems
At the Dollhouse Asy*lum

☽☯☾

Among the Witch community,
Whether you notice it or not, we’ve resparked Witch Wars
and it’s all been riding on this saying:

-- She who cannot hex, cannot heal.
She who cannot curse, cannot cure. --

Wards & Defense Magick are great and all,
but what about when time comes where you’re stuck in the Offense?

  what happens when you or (if you’re a healer) someone who’s in need of healing
comes to you, and you have to turn them away
simply because you can’t identify/fix the problem.

In short, you’re incapable of healing that person;
You, as a “Healer”, are now disgracefully claiming the name.
All because the fact is the harm is rooted in either a hex
or curse, and knowing how to deal with that -needless to say- would take
Your complete understanding of hexing and cursing.

That level of understanding is what you need to identify what’s being cast on them and from that point, know how to reflect or break it;

And in harsher/stronger situations, having that judgement is vital when deciding if/how/what to cast back.


But it's all still somehow a ******* debate.
So Welcome to the Age of Witch Trials: By Witches, For Witches.

--- She who cannot hex, cannot heal
She who cannot curse, cannot cure. ---

She's a sweet little thing
a Moonflower’s paradigm
enjoying isolation and slumber by day
waking up to start her magick pursuits around society's bedtime

Some spells & her abilities, this Völva has bound to her mane
But for her, that's a better vessel than a pendant on a chain
And remember: When she dances,
if she shakes her hair, her power is twice obtained.

So if you're hooked on schadenfreude,
Cease and desist; Please knock that **** off.
Because, at the very least,
you'll be returned with what you've caused.

But if someone's harming you
or you're being hurt, but confused
whether the root of tormenting
brews with a What or a Who

Go ahead, take a deep breath
Dolour will be overcame
your Spirit's to be momentarily reclaimed
the Völva's arrived
and her prowess resides with
cures and curses alike.

--- She who cannot hex, cannot heal
She who cannot curse, cannot cure. ---

don't show your cards if you see a smirk in their eyes
because doubling down might have seemed great
until you see they had two queens the whole time.

"you still kick it in the slums      ?
you still sell drugs   ?
you still like to party       ?
you still binge n get ****** up          ?"

As much as I love a fight      
I'd rather leave them to their ****** imaginations      
--I find my amour-propre
when I see a use of my knack for kinesics
as mischievous manipulation--
Causing the busy-bodies'  capitulation;      
instantaneously subjugated        

So I bestow my infamously vexatious smirk
as I say
"absolutely."

Cat's Claw
Rose Petals
double Yarrow
Marigold

Dancing under the Moon's luminescence
that seeps into my kitchen
I love these 3am happenings
except when I slip up
and set subconsciously mischievous intentions

Cat's Claw
Rose Petals
double Yarrow
Marigold

chanting and dancing
as the Moon's glow keeps shining
entangling my soul as I rewrap fate's lining

chanting and dancing
the Moon's glow keeps on dazzling
enchanting my soul as I go

unannounced observers, lo and behold.

No more starry painted, too-cold-to-blink PA nights
Trains from Brooklyn to Queens
To whatever feels right

Cancelled that **** like they did
With Bonnie & Clyde

but I think this may be what they call "homesick"
missing the ratty & glamorous ends of the East Coast
An excruciating divorce by a eulogy
I’m so quick to move on
with moving along, usually

now it's just these way-too-*******-bright 24/7 neon lights
LA millennials addicted to LED hand-held screens
Just pray **** stays legalized
so we can stay oblivious and hypnotized
to this crisis of a generation

Address them by the proper diagnosis
it's Tech-Dependent, not "Tech-Savvy"

And hope Trump doesn’t get ******-ized
and these women in third worlds
that still don't have
our "luxurious" humane rights

And hope that we all don’t lose our ******* minds. (at least not too soon )

Tread lightly ?
Sorry I don’t think I know that phrase
But I can corrupt a situation silently
Carbon monoxide type of style, if I may.

Or switching a MAC-10 for that Ka-Bar type of light?
Quiet and violently vivid
Swooping in with that Bullfight Night
Stunning sight of baneful crimson

She --who has earned the respect-- can walk
Can dance, sing, and stomp
as loud as she likes
Because it’s long past that time she
Had no choice besides
learning how to tread right

People can often be illogical
Self Centered
Unreasonable
And occasionally intolerable
It didn’t faze you in any deadly way

Maybe it took a sharp turn
from horse to foul play
But like my ******* dad used to say
"you still breathin?
well **** **** it up, you'll be okay."

If your heart’s in the right place
You’re “two-faced” or just “too nice”
“A push-over”
Keep that good **** running like an NBA replay

If you’re authentic
You’ll be “blunt”
“Too direct” “Rude”
Those are just ignorant cliches
Stay voracious
Do not fade away

If you’re blossoming
Stay Blooming
When you’re noteworthy
Don’t expect only good notes

Keep grooving to your heart’s beat though
Because that's morse code live from your soul
You gotta stay rare
Before common conformity becomes
Communistic crowd control

We crave that unparalleled extraordinary
In any sort of way

We need sui generis runaways that set the leeway
we need the leap days
and occasionally risque soirées
and baseball’s ritualistic ***** plays
So society won’t run too astray

Just like the Nutcracker needs ballet
Like grey Monday needs
Friday night’s jet-black lingerie
like Nirvana needs Kurt Cobain
We need those bows after the rain

Jealousy will be profound
When you find a way to smile
don’t trip though because on Cloud 9 it’s too intoxicating
To hear any words on the ground

When you synthesize something
That feeds your soul
That’s enchanting to you
Stay with that sensational complacency
You earned it

Besides
It wasn't about them anyway

An empath
Just a ProSonderer
Nothing more
But quick to learn
every human’s soul
will be instinctively felt
just as the breeze flows
through that open window

A soul
it’s wandering to your heart’s beat
on rare occasion it deviates from the tune
nothing more

—Because you don’t acknowledge
its existence yet;
Could you truly expect to progress
in finding your soul’s mate
when you don’t even know your spirit’s home?—

A pair of souls is always made from a single star
so when you find another
that renders your talkative self speechless
or leaves your smooth conversing ways to only a stutter
Find another that leaves you in awe and wonder
that makes your chest feel comfort in the ache
when you're longing not only at midnight
but in public midday for that other

if its a flame
that just won't fade
no matter how long you stay
tell yourself to not push this one away
you're not in danger anymore

let that person breach your barricades
allow them a chance to understand your spirit’s ways
you'll soon stop automatically
encouraging them to go
the day will arrive when you won’t be itching to show them the door

chances are you'll find
nothing's worth more
then an empath finding their
lone star soul in their own time

And as a sondering empath
I understand having that
(impenetrably
-fragile only to a certain fine-tuned touch-
translucent but sporadically opaque)
guard with others
Seems like a darkly humored folklore
a normal person’s usual day
is just a daunting notion due to exhaustion from feeling everyone's emotion
but when you meet that one
you won't just understand their soul
you'll have a brand new reading
and it’ll feel horrifyingly confusing

just remember there's a first time for everything
when that someone intuitively understands you.