What's left to hold onto in this insubstantial twilight world. Fog of reality offers no consequence and no misty morning fantasy will wrap me so tightly that i won't see through. When nothing around you has any matter to claim it and give it form you freefall. Give me a reason to find a way to push through this, give me something to hope for. Because all my trusts are slipping through, lack of sincerity eats away at promises made. False prohpets convey the end of eternity and we believe, because we see the resignation in the hope of the people we love. Discernment of weakness means nothing to me anymore. The only weakness that matters is my own, and i love it for it gives me a reason to revel in this self loathing.

When i write things like this... do you find yourself thinking "buck up you little bastard?" Don't worry i think that too, but the more i whine the more ihate myself and the carousel has lost the ability to stop. Quite a ride in the circus.

"The anxious through the coming storm will sit while you pray for rain..."

Cut me out of your life with a sterile blade and forgotten memories. Try to ignore me please, i'd hate to get in your way. Twisted redcolored glowing orbs in the darkness define the reality of each one of us, lost and hopeless our lights are going out. Sit on the front porch and call us home, leave the light on a while will u? Instant revision as you look in the mirror, subconcious changes paint the mirror with my blood

"Sleep tight... my gun"

back & forth