kites.

do u believe in kites?

vivid.

dancing through the cloud curtains.
mocking the firmament.

they say kites are Man's hopes.
vignettes of vainglorious self deception...

lashed to the Great Mother,
yet reaching, defiant, to the highest abodes of the gods...

men hope, kites fly...

i don't play with kites.

shut

i close myself from light.
light that brings shafts of cruel hope that pierces without mercy.

the walls are true allies. they make you numb and welcome the calm dark.

i let myself fall into the bosom of the Earth.
in the Moon's eclipse, the Earth talks to me of shadows and shades.
in the Great Mother's decay i recover myself.

i am given back what is denied me.
i will take back what has been taken.



await my awakening.

woe to heathens...

...

friend, there is something about us and when midnight has already passed. no, not dawn. just when the new day is yet unheralded. this time blesses us with vulnerability and doubts. precious fear that keeps us grounded. it gives us back our dreams, affirms our potential. shows us a glimpse of the future...

noir

of black roses.
attractive as death.
the senses succumb.
seduction's finite finality.
there is beauty in lies.
of black butterflies...

shall we sin again?

x

friends, FRIENDS, friends, and 'friends' are thorns, yes, and are immaterial.

Pain is The Truest Friend. it is a constant. a given. a blessing.

we do not have friends, and thus should not trust anyone.

we only have Pain, and thus should only trust Pain. . .

it is the only thing that can seep through our beloved walls...

lovely isn't it?

and i sigh...

you... i know you yet i do not recognize.
i sense you yet i am numb.
i hate you.
i love you.

i am you.


you... are a familiar stranger.
a dreammate.
morning's birdsong.


the light of your eyes are fell.

the lies in your lips are truth.
truer than any passable reality.

your wounds are everfresh...

their stench, sweet and cloying.
clinging to my consciousness.

your smile that fools no one and everyone.
your smile that never quite reach your eyes...

then you break into a semblance of a laugh.
hollow and fading.

you are broken.
yet you endure.

i am you.

here's to crap. love and loving in 2007

the first said he wasn't ready. stabbing me with such exquisite pain, it's waves rushing through the sensual borders of my being. reduced me to questionable worthlessness. summed me up with a phrase - i didn't even deserve a sentence.

the second i hurt. no excuses. except for not believing in a subjective emotion. he was a breath of fresh air. perhaps my system had already grown accustomed to the pollutions of man. move on, i said. he had other ideas.

the third. played a game. he enjoyed masochistically. allowed it to wash over him. apparently he hurts too. or something to that effect.

no more.


here's to crap.