Eternal Rest

Out beyond the walls, she walks a maze of flowers With lips as red as sultry blood and skin as pale as the day old dead She faintly hears a sound, as if the outset from the wave of a distant radio The sound conforms to intimate voices The voices she’s been longing for “Deny…

Seeking Relief

Coffee fuels my pen. Whiskey fuels my knife. Will there ever be an end to this fucking thing called life? My pen fuels my heart. My knife fuels my thirst. Will the blood from an unnatural art make me forever cursed? My heart fuels my pain. My thirst fuels my mind. Will I ever just…