swear to hell

black and white photographs in a drawer
decorated in the loveliest velvet

when you told me that i was an unreliable metronome
with a heart too twisted
i retaliated with a broken collarbone
and laid myself down into the white-flag position

a room so dark, so empty but a funeral pyre
with a life to directly resemble it.

dream splicer

i've fallen in a reverie
i've taken a dive head-first with eyes closed
i've reached terminal velocity
i've kissed what god is to me.

one: captain's confessional

this is not prose. this is not written for your entertainment or for the purpose of increasing your proficiency in literature. this is the truth. this is the strain that i experience and would like to share with you. i'd like to know your answers to these questions that have been sitting in my mind for years.

just how long do you need?

what will become of you and i?

do i exist in your subconscious?

on what side of the line do you land on? are the decisions you make and the emotions you feel binary or complicated?

i want to know what you think. i want to know what you feel. i want to keep something from you that i can hold onto. i want some sort of intelligence on the inner thought processes of your brain. i want to deconstruct and analyze the personality you've developed, that never seemed to mature in my eyes.

i want to be treated like a respected human being.

i don't need your sympathy. i don't want to be thought of in questions. i will not accept being misinformed and carrying on misconstrued conversations where nothing is communicated. nothing pisses me off more than an empty conversation, a connection bridged between two people with no meaningful exchanges. the point of engaging with another person is to connect with them, not to fill a void.

i have a problem with your interactions. i have a belief that you have lost all the substance that i once adored. can we agree that disagreement is part of our natural conversation? can you admit that we don't treat each other with respect? can you realize that some differences can be meaningless when the undertones of casual communication are the crux of our conversations?

i have a theory that although two paths my initially diverge, they must somehow converge at one point or another. that these independent vectors will venture aimlessly for years, eons, before reintroducing themselves to each other. these two particles will reconcile their differences with one another.

i want to know the person that lies beyond your face.

i'd like to know you again.

artificial urgency

some say that we'll spend our whole lives trying to achieve some sort of satisfaction that's unique to every individual. something that would put our souls to rest. that single, solitary sense of completion, the apex of our lives would be reached. some say upon experiencing that epiphany, that death is only a secondary. they will accept that one day, they will die. but they will die a complete person

"if you don't live for something, you will die for nothing"

void key

i've got a bedroom full of red velvet
with neon candles and a large array of needles

i've got a gun full of lies
with ruby red carnivorous accents

i've got a kiss that i want to plant on your face
with a sincerity that was thrown to waste.