A sarcastic clap grows louder as a shrouded figure strides proudly from the shadows that paint the earth beyond the circle of blood that Lambert now stands at the centre of. “No one before you has been so destructive, unless you count the deeds I have done with this hand….”
A room temperature desire, lost in the coldness of the beast, forgiveness of a fire, that burned into a yearning, fuelled by a hate that was incomplete, simplistic fundamentals, screwed up faces, unknown places, restrictions on your atonement, forgiveness a tomorrow away, whimsical wishes, fortitude when there was nothing else, where is the tomorrow promised […]
From a vantage point other than my own, the sea of turmoil was mine to brave, carelessness given fly to a beautiful smile lost beneath teeth aged by decay, we saw the opening, we made the way, severance paid in due and course, I came, but did not arrive in one piece, forgo the blame, […]
Dilemma on another plate, sacrificial meanings lost in the rain, a flood of bereavement, a stalemate of sin, perfection give to a lie that never made sense, a belief in possibilities, happenstance of matters, whispers, words, a deception deep seated in the faith of your soul, a yearning for the fundamental end, a forgiveness not […]
My innocence is as long as it is from my elbow to your grave, a side stepping rhythm alone in the dark, my soil against the coffin top, we want to imagine the perfection we bring in to this world, forgetting the doors we’ve close by contrition, a boom and a splash, some blood and […]
”I used your words to draw my scars. What could I leave?” He hisses through clenched teeth as he glides around the floor like a shark lost in an ocean of blood trying to find the sea to breath. “My scars are deeper. My scars you can’t see,” she says.
“I don’t like it when my toys are broken before I can brake them myself,” she says as she pirouettes, and then comes to stop in front of another young woman, this one stares at her with tear filled eyes. “Ah, that’s better, a live one!” “P-P-P-Please,” the girl stammers.
With its other hand it thrusts its fist through its chest, grips its spinal column and pulls it back through, severing whatever life it had. It stands there and lets out a low growl, almost as if it was purring, then stands up straight once more and sniffs the air…
“With all the shit going on in the world, I’d rather not shake your hand. Being a stranger and all,” he says. She stares at him with a raised eyebrow and retracts her hand. “You had no qualms thrusting your unprotected member inside that street whore minutes ago, did you?”
William screams silently into the blistering cold and then falls to his knees as agony courses across every inch of who he is. “I AM NOT READY!” He bellows into the oncoming storm, trying in vain to keep his sight on the prize, which is almost within his Icy grasp.
Shadows past, darkness foreboding, a limit reached, a peak climbed, tomorrow the seas flow anew, with greens and not reds, whimsical nuances, gutter trash living like kings, we forge to forget, we forget so we can sin, over and over again, repeating a curse, echoing the first, a flash made of silver, a knife, in […]
Capture me, open wide within the door, a mirror image of something from before, something I couldn’t see, a reflection of another, a painting half completed, the pallet tired and worn, stars in their eyes, thorns in their feet, wickedness dancing, darkness in the light, we sow our own seeds, we dig our own graves, […]
He smiles nervously, letting out a muffled laugh. “You’re pulling my leg, right? How couldn’t you recognise yourself?” Her face looks at him coldly, and she stands quickly. “I WAS BUT A CHILD OF SEVEN! THERE WAS NO WAY I COULD RECOGNISE MY FUTURE SELF AT THAT AGE!” She bellows.
Reginald places his hands against his forehead and stares wide eyed at the ground, the overwhelming stress of the situation finally taking its toll on him. “You could always lead those who are not sick back through the city. No one will care about the fact you originally led everyone on this suicidal journey,” Lincoln […]
“Half the boys running these dogs are ex-military, the grunts who fought in the thick of it, the boys disowned by half the people they served to protect because of the colour of their skin, or what organ they had between their legs, or what flavour their sexual appetites buttered….”
Jackson digs his hands deep into his pockets and sneers, rolling his eyes at the constant screaming of everyone else. Planting a shoulder forward, he connects with several people in front of him as he pushes his way out of the crowd. “WHAT THA FUCK BOY!” Somebody yells behind him.
Derrick smiles faintly, “N-N-No, no I’m not deaf.” “Well then, are you Terry’s boy or not?” he asks. “I’m sorry, but there are only a handful of people I’ve known in my life called Terry, and I’ve never been any of theirs.” The boy looks at him, raising an eyebrow.
Pick apart the windows, smear the shit of who we were on the glass, for it’s time to leave it all behind, a wicked basket four yards wide, filled with so many place for a body to hide, a brilliant moment, a moment for me, a brilliant moment, a moment to be free, my blood […]
Fatally yours through a shit storm of hate, handfuls of pocket nothing’s thrown in your face, a pain in the arse, a slap in the nuts, reverberated something’s, another death in our street, we call for a signature of design, a building undone, mankind with one skin, flesh of your flesh, drink for tomorrow, sleep […]
He storms past her, and heads towards the open doorway, his jaw clenched and his eyes focused on the emptiness beyond. “STOP!” She calls out with a vigorous growl, for a moment he stops and contemplates his next step, before looking over his shoulder with a sneer, curling his lip…