“To poison the sting, from time to time, it’s the acme of art.”

 

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Necromancer 

 

Decayed and abandoned houses always fascinated me and I was never sure why, but I felt like... in some twisted way I belonged to them, as if all of these haunting, marginal and chaotic places were just a reflection of whom I was inside

-- something in ruins

 

 

---The truth is.. I don't like rules so I have none.

With this I want to say that I welcome your violence, your insanity, your lust, 

I welcome every bit of your creativity. Anything you want to throw my way I'll catch, so don't be afraid to show me your shadows.

The only thing I ask for is substance, a bit of flesh on the bone.

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  • 11022113255?profile=RESIZE_584x

    when He created you lying in bed

    He knew what He was doing

    He was drunk and He was high

    and He created the mountains and the sea and fire at the same time

     

    He made some mistakes

    but when He created you lying in bed

    He came all over His Blessed Universe.

     

    ― Charles Bukowski

  • Between love and death,

    I dug deep into the ground, barehanded and soul bruised,

     tried to bury all that had burdened me like a boulder upon the shoulders of Atlas.

    I dirtied these hands of mine, besmirched their innocence, believing it was better to live by severing ties with the caustic guilt anchoring me to that dark place. Foolish of me not to anticipate the shadows of all my misdeeds following me around like a virulent hellhound, and leading me to you.

     

    To do something so unnatural, to push the boundaries in the territory of taboo,

    To attempt to rectify our sin and resurrect the departed echoes of our stained history,

     

     I ask you,

    Between love and death,

    Will you kill me and heal me—in the same breath?

    11022094881?profile=RESIZE_584x

  • I love the nights, when streets fall quiet
    When neon glow bathes
    the passer-by

     

    Your hand in mine, our eyes alight as
    Words warble, music plays, and last-call looms.

     

    Alleyway walls, stone cold against your back
    Our kiss soft,
    like falling snow

     

    There is no one else here
    but you and I 

    Only you
    Only your eyes

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