I was compromised by the foolishness (self-absorbed lies we tell ourselves) of an unwilling play toy, twisting my fevered dreamed marked by the blood of a virgin sacrificed on the blade I somehow held in my hand (more lies!) the cockroach called for my regurgitated words to be held against me on a trial by fire, there was no time to beg, no care (NO TIME) misery has made its assumption on my fate, my hand had bestowed its denial, my soul (LIAR!) has been cast into eternal damnation for a crime that was not mine (lies slither off your tongue like the waves of a dead sea brushing the beaches of a shore that is slowly eroding away under its salt grasp, hinder your lies and accept the fate YOU desperately deserve!)
Lies Keep Me Warm At Night (LIAR) – Wrapped In Words
Posted by Matthew Tonks on
Published by Matthew Tonks
People are surprised when reading Matthew’s stories that he’s a sane forty something year old, happily married, father of one, employed full time, who dreams of dark disturbing things that any sane person would never even contemplate thinking of. But it's true, he’s toyed with writing for most of his adult life, but has always found the peg a writer must fit into is not the shape he wished to be. His writing can be described as lamenting, long, concussive (yes it smashes you in the head), compulsive, and stuffed with rhythmic communication and violence, let’s not forget the violence. His own opinion on his writing is this, “You see, I don't just want the words to seep into your mind, but into your soul, showing you images of blood and beauty through, volatile language, violence, sex, love and sin. My muse takes different shapes, and every now and then you can see her shining her wicked smile in some of my stories, tempting you with her promises, but ripping your heart out instead.” So have a look, and take a seat in my wayward ride, as you join me while I purge through, this twisted road of madness. View all posts by Matthew Tonks
