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Man is the animal who will not be himself

Innermost part of my veins

Like an oppressive regime

And Ceausescu's palace a mere analogy for my mind

Empty halls and redundancy…

No clear skies tonight.

Darling, there are no clear skies tonight

How am I meant to imitate the up-above

If I cannot see my reflection in it?

I resort to puddles, for there are no lakes and

I am not Narcissus

But I do know I will hear you Echo

Your voice resonant, pervasive, all at once;

I've got you stuck on a loop

And I am too afraid to press eject

Cassettes are fragile, and this CD

Is the only thing of you

That I have left

So forgive me, but I cannot let you rest

Keep singing for me

Until the puddle evaporates,

And takes my reflection away with it

love has no boundaries, no county lines

but I am neurotic,

a perfectionist

so I am compelled

to draw borders in, with blue ink.

"What was my mad heart dreaming of?" -Sappho

like god

The promise of betterment, a night owl’s talons drawing blood, The haze of tomorrow, milky eyes of a predator that slept too little The haunting in a house of cards, packing vermilion onto dewy cheeks

Dissolute Sanguine

To perceive is to digest, and to digest is to warp beyond repair; Do not perceive that which you do not wish to be warped. i) Cessation of self prompts the veiling of mirrors, And a vampiric urge to l


It is that spectacular night sky that, shameless, spread before the eyes of the Lord, lures me to all the corners of the cosmos that I've yet to touch, bound by a sense of child-like innocence. It is


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