(no subject)
I'm alone here.
I called people to hang out, but no one wants to waste their time on ghosts.
Can't blame them, I wouldn't be friends with me either.
No drugs to fill the empty spaces. No coke to shimmer through. No quaaludes to close my eyes. Indiscriminate angels. Sex veins....
It's like that Pink Floyd lyric... all you touch and all you see, is all your life will ever be.
Maybe i'm just meant to die young, like this, in the shadows.
Life is so mute, like butterfly sneezes. Creatures rotting in my skin. The sting of sad kisses. This sorrow is a vacuum.
Silent screams to keep me sane... such a prisoner. My ribs are my cell bars and my pain is my bed frame. My flesh is the mangled walls and my bastard heart is the shit that floats in the broken, metal toilet. Pathetic.
Sadness. Fury. Terror. Infantility. Soggy mind. Digested back bone. Regurgitated lethargy. Stale bed sheets. Closed blinds. Frigid coffee. Three dog night dream lands. Space's forlorn.
Collapsed child.
It.
Putrid hair. Pallid organs. Annilation waging war on my shadow. Expulsed out of paradise. Circles cast in sacrilege. Profane tongue. Desecrated heart beat. Blasphemous soul.
Their voices are gone.
Their hands burnt.
Faces melted.
I am in the valley.