I was born to a purpose,Tell me its not all worthless,Smearing crimson on the white…
From the Latin word for…
Renegade Oddities, №7
I miss seeinggrowth in pain,
Renegade Oddities, №4
Renegade Oddities, №3
I never gave a damn about poetrybefore Bukowski, andI didn’t know a thing…
Pugilist, №2
Sometimes, when the silence of a lonely roombecomes too thick to ignore,I start to worry thatmy pact…
Implosions at the Seams, №2
Her pupils roll away,leaving no hazel to be seenamid the white of Her eyes…
Shackledby the Master.Terrible mentals.Buckshot, point-blank temples.Goodbye.
Sometimes I forget who I am