Starving in this hole ( Read more... )

Lachrymal space ( Read more... )

I hear you prying, somewhere out there in the desert. Tinkering. Trying to get in. Everything is in shambles here in this forgotten corner, but I'm still alive. Trust in that.

They are all transient, but I will always be with you. I will never take you for granted. My symbol will always rest firmly in your diadem, outliving all other stones placed thereafter. Though pretty they may be, they will always fall.

It's funny how random lines of a poem can cut to the heart of things. Am I more ethereal to you in my isolation? Or have you forgotten me since finding a Mistress?

It is the latter I fear. I can't serve a mere female. I serve you. Just remember I'll never leave you. We are quite stuck with each other, dear architect.

When will you ever learn to trust me? I'm privy to your instinct's ugly parts. I've lounged in your boiler room enough times to know what the rattles mean.

A tick.
A leech.
A rotten peach.

There is a hunger singing in my teeth again. I need to BITE.

So many would rather be seduced. It is such a miserably quaint human condition. Reality is too barbed to handle directly, it seems. Shall I make it easier for you, then? Shall I take the form you want, and gently bring you to heel? Either way, you are heading to the same place.

Distant, empty names leading nowhere gives me pause.

So, this journal is going a little more private...and if I find any of my words marching to the beat of another drum, I will be suitably venomous.

It was fun seeing you-when I could see you-squirm. I've been kept in a room without a view much too much lately.

I trust you will Remember me. You may have seen a tell.
Many think they see us, but so seldom do they truly have the heart.