sometimes i write to no one
nobody is filling the void deep in my soul
so i make up fantasy men to take up the space
to fill in the cracks with their vibrant smiles
cheekbones accentuated
i instruct these prosthetics to heat my freezing
cold heart
stuck in a plain old reverie with kisses and children dancing in a ballroom
these fake and imagined life forms leave behind a vestige of fantastical beauties
these creations are flowing like water in secret caverns
dancing around my empty body
healing my blemishes but they still return to the creations’ surprise
they lift my limp limbs and lower me over the ancient greek pond
letting me drink the rich and luscious stream
filling my body with water, weighing me down
more mass and a bigger center of gravity
btw i am almost dead by the time they finish these rituals
these fantasy men care for me day in and day out, but they are sculpted from my mind
not real, this is not reality
they make me feel “happier” and “fuller” in my eyes but i know this is all a façade
naked and no one shall know
that the girl who waits here for fantastical sculptures to touch her and clothe her is a deep and dark disappointment
some say, “what an ingrate.”
some don’t even bother to care
nobody truly cares
and i figured this out many months ago
i am finally letting go
and as i turn to these creations i have created inside of my head
they blow and dissolve into the wind
therefore i have virtually no one
so i weep into my pruny hands
then draw the conclusion that i will never be loved
at least i know one thing for certain  :/

This sleep has sunk to catacombs
Where dreams are dreaming of themselves,
And where they slump to deeper shelves
A dim and voiceless banshee roams.  
Interlopers jostle memory,
And pressing on his signet ring,
Take on the seal of realer things.  
Truth’s rejected for hyperbole.  
Delusions stack in strata, drowned,
Lives never lived, in parallel,
That puzzle sleepers who can’t tell
Where waking lies, so lies confound.

Refuge from loneliness.
Thought it was love,
But that was just kindness.
I should not have hoped,
To have those delusions.
I should not have confessed,
And just kept it as a lonely love.

Delusions, Delusions, Delusions...

An exotic perfume out of her fleshy lips
Glistening teeth with a slight fringe of light yellow
Hair messy but perfectly done
Eyes, a bit far off but as true as the moon
The smile as beautiful as a rose in a thousand nettles.

The greatest treasure for mankind is a perfect soulmate and nothing else...

I wish my tactile hallucinations would give me a massage,
A warm hug from my non-existent mother,
A kiss from my long distance boyfriend.

A twisted fairytale

My hallucinations
They know what I fear most
And they want me to be afraid
They feed off my terror
They get off on my sick brain
They know what torments me.
Arachnophobia’s favorite game to play
The spiders
Come out of
My skin
They’ve been waiting patiently
When I’m most vulnerable
When I’m isolated
When I’m helpless

I wish my tactile hallucinations would
**** me

You plant the seed
of a light delusion
you plan to read
to make conclusions.

The seed is growing
you water the plant
delusions are bowing
in tortured mind's enchant.

Day by day they grow
strengthen their grip
you go along the flow
of delusion's craftsmanship.

I can see your want to wrap yourself in me,
I can feel the amaze radiating from your body;
The tingle you feel when my waves touch the tip of your toes,
How you mesmerize your soul with the beauty I behold
But that's just the brighter side to this green-blue field that I am.
Beneath the blanket of foamy waters are dangers;
The ones you should beware of while walking on my banks.
While the birds elatedly chirp overhead me,
I smile to ingest the humanity within me.
For the love of creation, beings add to my aggravation.
I hold under my claws your tempting childhood,
And beside me is the muddy patch of your adulthood.
I may look euphoric at a glance
Yet you need to rethink before stepping in my trance.
Sit on the bank and by my waves be cajoled,
Once you let me swallow you, there's a lot that will unfold.