I colored you like your two loves.

She was a monster, my sweet turtle dove, she was so crazy, and loved black and white, she was a monster, with him she did fight.

Still life

I live the still life, I lay around and do drugs all night.

Your boyfriend was so dull, though you were so great, he just layed around, you two couldn’t relate, I don’t know what you saw in him, that’s a lie yes I did, he was your dealer, and you two had a kid.

I wish I could have had you, and so did, so you say, but because you refused to leave him, I had to go away, now you remain in all likelihood, still doing the same thing, not getting out, but instead giving in.

The addicted live in misery, they live in pain, the lurk in the shadows, they stand in the rain, the litter the streets with garbage and pain, they scream in the night, their lives down the drain, they have no hope, they are told they should die, and looking back it just makes me cry.

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Gold *****

I am the functional drug addict, I am myth, a lie, something to shield your eye from the fact that you are a drain on your own life, an addiction not just to drugs, but to strain, to the addiction of

MUST

MAINTAIN MAINTAIN MAINTAIN

Hampster wheel of run away

AWAY AWAY A WAY

To seperate self from flames burned on spoons on the street, candles lit for people still sick and suffering, who are dead before you have a chance to meet them….

I am gold, I am pretty, I am neat, I am clean.

Whatever do you mean, that is mean… I am doing just fine, I am golden, baby. I am maintaining mine, you may need help but I do not… I am okay with burning spoons, and keeping all my bowls hot as fire

Fire fire fire

Burn yourself, I am okay with hiding bottles on the shelf.

I am okay okay okay

Please go away.

I did and she stayed there, sitting probably in the same chair, forever and ever, in the life of fog get her.

Fog Get Her

Forget her.

She tells me I am an alcoholic, drug addict, and spits on me, when I ask her for some change, I tell her that’s strange, because she is high on the same drug, and she look in the ****ing mirror if she wants to insult anyone. I pretend it doesn’t bother me, but it does, enough that I am writing about it right now, and still thinking about it months later.

I was doing speed with this girl a week before asking for the change, and asked her for the change because I thought she would sympathize being a drug addict her self.

I loved her so very much, I decided to treat her poorly.

So in love with black and white, you are, you are my shooting star, you are everything to me, I love you so clearly, so dearly, you are everything that I ever wanted, and needed, please stay always my

HEROIN

I loved her so very much, I decided.

To treat her poorly, was not my intention, and of it I make mention to mention why, I treated her

My treat is to retreat.

I am a coward.

She was mean to me.

I am coward, and did not want to see.

You are an addict.

You are a liar.

I hold a lamp shinning on your soul, alight with HELL FIRE.

I am alone, I am alone, Eye am alone.

No need for anyone, or for phone, or sound, I exist in the resounding sound of down, of put down, deep underground.

I am the act of burrow, I am brow furrowed.

In a cave kind of like this, an abysmal abyss of pure dark bliss, kissed with grey of the act of away, she existed just in this, like this, in bliss.

The dark expanses of this place, painted her face with darkness, with space, with the act of erase, of space, of just exist, in this, pure bliss, death’s kiss.

In a cave that was painted with the power of the abyss,

She lived out her days of swimming in dark waters, and filling her mouth with their mucky dirt, in her world of hurt.

She was a sorrow filled creature, with a deep dark soul, that was like the painted cave, and with misery taking it’s toll.

She was devoted to sadness, it was her favorite drink, and with every sip, she would sit and she would think.

****

I am begging you to please, bring me to my knees.

Standing is so tiring, I am so sick of bitter firing, it makes me very sick, consumed by my own tomb, even though I have not done it for many a moon, I am transfixed with the past, with drugs that didn’t last, they keep my eyes on sky, under which I did not die.

In my heart and sole, I am dead, because I threw those shoes out a long time ago.

I miss you, so much, so much, so much, my heart is full of rust, and dust, oh angel of must, trust, anything else, anything else, enough to stop, writing love poems to heroin, meth, and alcohol.

Cemented in My Memory

I am cemented in the memory of my author, I am cemented in the creator of this image, I am cemented by the creator of this image.

In cement it lay, and forever will it stay.

I am covered over, an image protected and rejected by protection, destroyed by idolization, a picture of objectification, a picture of self-love.

Are you sure that is not just what you are seeing because you project yourself on your interpretation of it?

Exactly.

I am correct.

Exactly.

I am an attack on human soul, by protection of image which in fact eats everything whole, creating the potential for the whole image to become a hole.

Manilla, Manilla, in Vanilla, Vanilla, now just a stain on my brain, you make me insane.

I don’t think the image…

I know, just rambling because I like to hear myself talk.

You are typing.

I am also whispering this to myself, because I am insane.

Burn me. Baby, sweet baby, you make me so ****ing crazy

I see two doors one red one black, I painted one red, instead of black, to the black door I can’t go back, this I know, because I have a complete

I am to be red

I am very small

I am red instead of black because the narrator is an ***hole.

Lack of ****ing self-control, my soul a burning rotting, wreaking hole, not whole, but hole instead, so sad, too bad, must turn around instead.

The door, the door, behind it lays, things from which I needn’t say, because you could guess what they are, and my heart, my heart,

Is black because I am ***hole, writing about drugs in the morning.

So sad, too bad, I can’t see anything clearly, so dreary, so learly, letters from See Clearly

I love you person I don’t know, because you are beautiful and glow, with colors of say it isn’t… anyone I met, so you are not dead to me yet, because you simply don’t exist, you are idea of bliss or chaotic death either one because I know I ****, and am horrible at everything so I ruin anything I have and would ruin things with you too, and that no longer makes me sad, because I am

Insane, and engaged in a worship of myself, or with items on my shelf, that I threw out for now because I… actually they got stolen… and it was

Really ****y, but you are really pretty, for a second you make me think of something else,

Heroine, oh Heroin, I love you so,

Heroine, oh Heroin, I wish I could forget you,

And not be writing love poems to a woman who is really a metaphor for how I am a pathetic loser.

Ahahahhah.

What does that even mean?

I liked how it sounded, rappers do it, why can’t it be done with horror, and actually all letters you write me are severe, because they are severly disturbing to average people.

That is actually very true.

I know that is why I thought of it.

Not everything you think is true.

Blue poking madness, is dark gladness, or glowing sadness

Name one thing.

I am not a drug addict, I just like heroin and can do it responsibly this time, if I just don’t drink. This is actually something you were thinking today. How do I know, because I was thinking it to.

I am a box that never should have been opened.

I am trying it one time, and never again.

I will never do it two days in a row.

I can just drink one.

I can just have three.

I will start at five.

I will start at 12.

Severly, means harshly, and I think that a lot of us talking to each other, can be considered harsh, which is why I like you.

You like me because you have to, because I am you, or half you, and you are in love with your whole self which is half me.

Sick burn.

You’re welcome, I am usually the one saying that to you, so now you got a taste of your own medicine, and got to be the bad guy for once. How did it feel?

Like I was sitting back and listening to you talk, but I was actually present in my own body, having to experience me talking, and be completely coherent during it.

Hahaha! So, it is not easier being me, now is it?

Actually, wrong, it was being you than it would be being me, if it was me, I would not have been there at all, the fact that I am you was the only reason I was able to deal with any of it.

Thank you, I don’t know what to say about that.

Really? Thank you is all you have?

Amazing isn’t it?

No, actually, a thank you is kind of nice.

You know how insane this whole process is right?

Yeah, was just thinking the same thing.

Maybe, other people do this in their own heads.

I don’t think so.

I was just trying to make my own self feel better.

Yeah, your own self.

You are my own self.

You are my own self too.

That is a very insane thing to say.

My whole is not my fault. I was scre… can’t even sarcastically say this, this is insane, not true, ****.

I had nothing to do with this, I had nothing to do with this. I had nothing to do with this, my whole life is very short, I had nothing to do with this.

I am blame.

I am not at fault.

It was fate from the very start, I have done nothing wrong, my whole life, Hell’s theme song.

I am such a bad liar.

My hand! My hand!

I am laughter, I am contention, I am a soul with no potential for redemption.

It’s all because of you, not anything I do, I got dealt such **** cards, look at me, my life was hard.

It’s got to be my hand, my hand, because I am missing my finger tips on three fingers, my thumb, my right one, the right one, the one I used to write with, not I type with… that has to be the reason that I failed, lived a life of ship has sailed, clearly not that I jumped off, long ago.

Your hand happened, our hand happened when we were 32, you are 36, four years was not all the ruining we did…

You said we, not just you…

I know, I feel sorry for you sometimes.

Yourself, stupid.

I know stupid, I am good at that.

Wow, that is disgusting don’t type that…

Oh I know, I thought that too, I am always right behind you.

That is creepy as all Hell.

Guess, what it got us.

It is just as well.

I re-colored and re-drew you with another human being colored in grey and white, like the reason we would fight, or my lack of light… You are no longer around me, I miss you sometimes, but sleep soundly, knowing it was you who was insane, not me plagued with brain drain, although that is true as well, could not live with you in Hell, which is why you wanted me to begin with……..

Tell me baby, what you wanted, in a voice not so haunted, by all the guys that ever hurt you, because no matter what you say, sorry baby, can’t be the girl you craved, and I wonder now if that was the problem, so maybe I could not have solved it, because in every way, every single one, you were one of the only ones who I do not much negative to say about……..

Glamourized insanity, painted over with pure vanity, in colors holographic, like the daggers that you stab with, cutting below, at my rib and going slow, you are everything you said you were not, hate so cold, and love so not existant at all, like an icy barbie doll, not capable of love, because you were

I don’t remember really.

She is not like you, so she is going down, I love you sweetheart and your friend would rather lay down.

She stole your money, and I’ll give it back, little do you know, this is all an act. We tricked you, baby, but you don’t know. I wanted your attention and your friend did know. Now you are sitting thinking she left you here, she is buying something of which you won’t here. I covered for her, because without her, I would never have met you, and after today won’t see you again, and this I bet you, so right now, I will tell you anything you want to hear, and yes have anything you want, I have it here.

I don’t know when she will be back, she did not tell me, and yes she will be back of this I assure, I implore you please relax, your insanity and anxiety is such a tax, I love your voice honey, and love your face, I have something that I am sure will make your pain slow pace.

Okay, she is back no go away, and if you are ever in need you know where I stay.

I am watching you

And it makes me so very sad, to see you standing in a place so bad… painted as it is with death of day, a place I am sure from which you should stay far away, given such a pretty face, so tragic it would be for it to be stuck in this space, the place where we have come to haunt, to murmur curses and sadly taunt, the beings that come from above ground land, where I am sure your sweet form must be from and stand on the lands that are populated by better folk, not us my dear, who down here sulk.

There is still time, you can still turn around, you don’t have to be a lurker on this tragic ground, you need not listen to my partner’s voice, just run away, you have a choice.

Above Ground and the Sound of the Lurkers Below, Or the Slow Shouting of GO

She’s got cash, you fool, let’s help her out, she might help us, if we don’t make her go without, so shut your mouth, don’t make her run, come on, dumb ****, let’s have some fun.

Now I am sorry baby, but to get out of here, you are going to need a guide and she is right here, my friend, my friend, she is great, a true sweetheart, with such a pretty face, I’ll be right back, and you will laugh, she looks like me, she is my other half, she will make sure you will be fine and away you’ll go. I am someone you would rather not know, I am sure you will be just fine, look here don’t cry, sweet one, take a beer, go away, baby I am not good with your kind, I am resigned to live in life of decline, so no I don’t have what you thought you need………..

Tell me a story, make it true, make it all about everything you do

Looks wonderfully comfortable doesn’t it?

Which is great for me, because the building I was living in at the time was not dark, but was abandoned, which I told her…

she said it was edgy, whatever the **** that means, apparently being a junkie is edgy? I don’t think she knows what edgy means. I don’t really have much of a choice of whether or not she is coming with me because she kind of just started following me to my edgy ****hole of an, “I sleep here till I am told to vacate…”.

I am the glamour of the unknown.

I am so free, you do not even know.

I spend every day and every night in a continuous race to erase my whole **** life.

I am talking to her, and I realize she is not even listening to me…..

The oddest thing about the whole thing, was that eventually at some point during the whole thing she just walked away, I tried to ask her where she was going, and she just kept walking, saying nothing, just left…. to this day, I wonder what she wanted, and there is a part of me that still thinks she was a ghost.

I moved my spot the next day, I wonder sometimes if she was a sad junkie that lived in that building who thought it was edgy at first and then died there… or if she was just my brain telling me to stop doing drugs through hallucinations.

I am walking by myself, like always every night, possessed by bottle on the shelf of a wall that is abandoned, by all who do not stand in the wreck that my life has landed in

I am darkness, I am pain, I am embodied disdain.

I am dark acid rain

Reigning down on soul of nothing

I have taken up to living. here… my home is here..

Yes, my dear, I have beer, and nothing… I have nothing to…

This is my home.. this is alone.. my home…

If that’s what you call this …in this building… she thinks this is interesting… drunken creature… following me…

Calls me brave, saying I made some stand against something…that I am standing up for something…. myself I assume.. I stand in my own tomb….possessed by the fire of chaotic desire to consume….

I am glamorization of Hell

I am woman’s desire to dispell everything her parent’s told her not to do

I am where you shouldn’t be

I am do not envy me

She helps me light a fire, tells me she wants to be like me.. free….

She does not see what is really there, illuminated godess… standing at the corner of a dark cliff, wanting to jump

Wanting this….

What is it you want

You want this?

Why?

She talks to me for an hour, and for an hour everything is alright, she has to leave in the morning promises to come back, promises she actually meant everything she said.. I know she is lying…… I am nothing but a night of adventure.. I am nothing but the desire to deny potential…

I am the glamorization of a life of loss..

I am the glamorization of the freedom that is the chains of addiction..

I never see her again because heroine’s do not save heroin addicts…

I have to save myself……

Maybe if I do… one day I will see someone like you again.

We stare forward because we always stare forward, we face the way we always have, we stare forward into the water, looking forward never back

I am standing on the beach alone, or so I think… It is the middle of the day, but it is misty and the ocean gatherers have cleared about because it feels like it is about to rain, the mist is thick and penetrating, cold enough that I am beginning to be unable to feel my fingers. The water is warmer than the air, I wade into the water, and allow the water to warm my tingling skin, and strangely feel someone, somewhere looking at me, strange….

There is nothing to our actions, we exist as we always do, doing what we do because we do it

We look forward because we do

Do not make this about something larger, we are not what you lack

We stare forward into the distance

It is your own soul that you attack

I could have sworn there was no one there.. but I can feel it… a human being staring at me.. I look around and still can’t see anyone, but can feel the warm presence of someone there. It feels like I am being watched by someone, maybe from far away. I look around at the birds, and they are still, not moving, not making any sounds. They stand perfectly still, as if watching someone too….

I remain standing there for I don’t even know how long, and at this point, I am not sure how much time has passed by, but I feel like I can hear the birds thinking to me, they do not think like human beings do, they think in a sort of group think, collective conscious, letting me know that nothing abnormal is going on, at least not with them.

I distinctly feel someone behind me, and look around, I still see no one, but I swear I can feel someone watching me. At this point I am so unsure of the time, and so overtaken by this strange sense of urgency, I leave the beach and run up to the nearest sign of humanity, of any sign of life, I find a white fence, and thankfully for a second, while I stand choking on my own aloneness, my own discomfort, trying to get some sort of semblance of normal feeling, I again feel someone standing behind me.

She crouches down and looks deep into my eyes, her skin glowing with an unearthly angelicness…

You heard them to, she says to me, not with her mouth, she thinks it at me, she thinks it over and over frantically, with a desperateness that lets me know that at least for this one moment, there is some peace in my universe of aloneness, that for one moment, even if it is just that one moment, someone, even if they are kidding me, even if they are making fun of me, is existing alongside me in a hallucination…

She starts laughing……….

I start laughing…. and for one moment, one moment in my entire life, I know what it is like to have someone who understands me.

I drop my wallet, I drop my wallet and look down, and wouldn’t care… I wouldn’t care, except there is something in my wallet that I think I need so I grab it and it falls out… she looks down and walks away………

I ruin everything in my life.

I am sitting outside, waiting for someone, I don’t remember her name, just remember that she had something that I wanted, and I was supposed to wait outside, because she wanted to talk to you alone, but all I wanted was to talk to you alone. Looking at you made me forget anything I had ever wanted in my entire life. You smelled like roses, and you laughed at very specific things, which indicated you were laughing not as a show, but because you had a very specific and unique sense of humor.

You laugh, and it is like someone opened a window, and I realized it has been sweltering hot in any room I have ever been in, and you are cool refreshing water

Your laugh sounds like a waterfall, washing over everything in my life and making it alright, making everything alright, washing every bit of pain out of me… just for the couple seconds that I look into your eyes.

You have someone else, someone who is also waiting for the same thing I am waiting for, but I wish neither of us were waiting for that, in this moment from the past, I wish that I had never done any drugs at all, and could be just standing there with you listening to you laugh, it was better than any drug I have ever done.

Trigger Warning: This is another poetic metaphor post, none of these people are real, all material is poetic metaphor, used to illustrate the nature of drug addict/alcoholic relationships. I am writing this because I promised myself to not write anymore negative on here, which this is, but it came to me this morning, and I think I am supposed to write it on here, to show there are not bad people just those sick with the disease of addiction.

This takes the darkest form of the sickness, and is why I used this poetic metaphor. I knew people like the characters I portray in this post, or knew of them, there is great darkness on the streets, I have seen it, and am trying to save others from having to see it as well. This is why I have the Dante’s Inferno category now, the seventh circle of Hell, is cheaters, liars, and other damned souls, like the ones I write about in this post.

Enter Misery.

I know Easy, she was fun and free, she was my baby, my sweet divine, lover of the human bind. I loved Easy…

She was CRAZY

CRAZY

CRAZY

Do you scare Easy, yes I do, I love your girlfriend, she’s so gooooood to you….

Let her play with me…

Easy, baby, you are such a nice lady, your husband loves you, so much, it makes him

CRAZY

You want me honey, that is good, give me your items, we are good, and I will make him sure regret every time he hit you and I bet, that we can all be friends, and you will see, how much better you will be,

BECAUSE OF ME.

I am debt. I am lend, I am let me sleep on my couch, I am your FRIEND.

Looking for my dog, because the ****ing pigs raided my house, because they do care ever so much, now that we had our friends over and they made tragic mistakes, like Elvis, in a room they were only allowed in so they didn’t use my lawn instead, and who am I kidding it was not my lawn anyway, but my girlfriend’s, the one I actually liked until I realized I was better at ripping off my girlfriend you already heard about.

I am running and partially falling over, because on second thought, I think I did have some left over after all.

I fall flat on my face, and give away my position to my ex, the police and the rest of the house. They cuff me, after I say I am not going to be compliant and return me to my ex who now knows about my secret breakfast. It only takes a half a liter before the cops are back and I am in handcuffs again.

**** that life, so glad to be more normal now.

https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2023/03/16/reenas-xploration-challenge-272/

I am in a trance, meditating on a deadly wavelength a chaotic hypnosis focusing on a stroboscopic motion, the slicing fan, tragic entrainment , of my mind transfixed on the woman who danced with me, for money and items.

I am dancing right now, with my own death, because I cannot handle living right now, and I don’t want to die, but I am bleeding out a year after losing you, over and over again, triggered by nothing, by you calling me, you texting me, bothering me, so much that I put all this out here on this site, as if it just happened, that is how it feels, like it just happened, but I have bleeding for a year. I am dying over this, and have been for a year, killing myself, with drugs and alcohol over a person who used me for drugs and alcohol. I am disgusted with myself and with her/him. I am so done with all of this, but keep coming back over and over to it, because they won’t leave me alone.

I just want peace, please everything in the universe, please just give me the strength to move on and find something else.

“If it’s not yours then why is it in your wallet?”, he says to me, and I know she got me, she is in the bathroom dying from doing both our shots, even though I told her she couldn’t handle it… she got mad, thinking I was being selfish.. she spent all our cash meant to get out of Houston on drugs… and I am being selfish… because I have a warrant here, for punching a cop while drunk..

I won’t admit to it being yours, because now if they give it back, it is mine, and I am not a snitch, I don’t give **** about going to jail. I ask for my wallet and say it has medication in it, that I am having a panic attack and need my meds. The ****ing cop gives it to me, and I look him in eye, and spit at him, run to the bathroom after grabbing my wallet he drops when I punch him, he doesn’t have a body cam on him.

He tells me I am going to prison. I bash my head in the wall, and tell him his cam isn’t on, ****er forgot to it on.

I throw up from the force of the blow to head, all over my legs.

Three cops show up as back-up.

They cuff me. I struggle, and get a resisting arrest charge as well as slammed into the cop car so hard it dislocates my shoulder.

They don’t care.

I’ll be out of jail in 3 days.

She/he will have this on his conscience forever.

I am standing on a corner waiting for you, and you tell me not to move, because you want to be able to find me, but what you are really saying is you don’t trust me.

Three hours later, I am running around looking for you, asking anyone and everyone where you are and if they have seen you, and hysterically crying, unable to fully run because I am almost choking on how much I love you, and how sorry I am that I wanted any of this at all.

You come up to me, and I ask if you got it, and you tell me you did, and then tell me it’s yours because I moved.. I am sick and about to throw up because I am addicted to heroin, and I am covered in sweat, you say I smell like I have been cheating on you. I start laughing thinking your kidding, and you’re not, you go in the bathroom and use the shit, and tell me to **** myself.

It was my ****ing money. It was my ****. It was my tears cried over you that cost me being sick the whole day. I am so done, but I am not, not yet, but soon.

How would you rate your confidence level?

I do not have confidence in myself, because I am not supposed to, I speak of matters I do not understand, and am a two-spirited human being or two human beings fighting for redemption at once. They were paired with each other to save each other. They were both chained to a world of addiction and Misery. I have been unchained from that, and I feel like something helped me, don’t know what it is, but I can’t keep being a selfish self asserting jerk.

Amanda and I are supposed to help each other, because we are both half people, weak and need another person… We have been saved from death because we made a deal with something, over and over in foxholes, we cried out to the universe, screaming in madness, we begged, pleaded with anything willing to help us, anything that would listen, I didn’t care what it was that saved me, saved her. I just wanted to survive, and not be in that place, and see the things they were doing to people to protect their drugs.

I know now that I was a child having a hissy fit. I am done with that now. I am going to try to do everything I can to do the right thing. My confidence is now in that realization and in that I have it within me to do the right thing.

Rushing through everything, to serve you, the way you wanted it.

I devoted my whole life to you, now I am haunted, by the hole, you burned

In my soul, and mind, in bind, with time, maybe I can put you behind, like the piano we pushed down the street, in the middle of the night, and then the fight we had,

Because you know I am bad?

I wanted it to be fair, but you didn’t care, my **** your ****

Your **** Your ****

Too bad, so sad, push your own piano next time, hunny.

You, ripped my heart out, all the details of who you were, and my lies about who I was, are irrelevant to the fact that you destroyed me, very much on purpose, pretending to be something that you were not. I believed you, and let you try and change me. I was foolish, I know, but you were cruel, and that is worse than anything. You had me, telling me you would help me, that talking to you and learning from you would make me better, that all your criticism was going somewhere, so gradually… I took it… allowed you to beat me down.. believing that you weren’t going to just beat me down…

You told me I needed you, that I was lacking ways that demanded your presence in my life, that you were a tool of the universe..

And you were, a knife.

I don’t know why you did it, because what it looks like is probably what it is…

I was your source of drugs.

That kills me.

That was all I was.

I never wanted that.

I never wanted the drugs more than you.

I would have given them up for you.

I was only a dealer, only a tool of manipulation, only a criminal, facilitating your downfall, and then you told me that, after making me that… I wanted to be so much more to you, but okay, if it helps you. I am the bad person.

I can just walk away, so please stop calling me, please stop asking about me. I was just your dealer, and I don’t do drugs or drink anymore, please lose my number, Justin/Rei.

Damien/Amanda

I just got back from hanging out with my dad, and it is cool how different things are now that I am trying to makes things right, I talked to him about all the chaos that I caused, continue to cause because I am prone to delusions, and how sorry I am. I noticed that saying things like this keep me from drinking, keep me coming back to a place, where I can stop beating myself up and are making it possible for me to walk out of the woods where I kept taking the wrong path on purpose and falling in random holes because I thought I was going to find secret gold in rocks I found on the ground.

I think the metaphor for drug addiction and eating rocks and drinking poison instead of doing the simple thing of eating food and drinking water is hilarious. I can’t believe how much my thinking has changed. It’s funny I was convinced everyone is out to get me when this is more true…

Them

Meth

Same word re-arranged…

Item

Time

Same word re-arranged.

Heroin

Hero in pushed together it forms a drug

Divided it references a hero in me

Heroine with an everlasting e it makes me a hero for saving my own life.

Funny right?

I hate myself, I hate my voice, I sound like a **** when I say anything, condescending **** when I say anything, and can’t do anything normal

Like drink water. I just almost choked on an ice cube… ****.

I drink everything like alcohol still…. doing ****ing shots of water with ice in it. Like it is going to work faster if I drink it in five seconds. What the ****????

I do the same thing with everything, must make everything painful, like just take sips of water when you are thirsty dumb ***

I have been courted all my life, to dance with loaded gun or held knife at my Neck, by myself, on a shelf, which of course is what I think because, baby I ****ing stink, I smell booze, in heart and soul, still drunk but dry, sometimes I know.

I reek of anger, creaking madness, rocking back and forth epic sadness, dark reflection, not staring at mirror, but bashing crashing and dying in epic fear.

I am loaded gun, I am dark resistance, I am tragic, insistence, that though I am dry, I am GOD. I am responsible for divining rod, punishing me, I am insistence on trying to be my own

Maker

Breaker

Soul forsaken, breaking me, tragically, beginning to see how epic my failure is.. or simply that I am an addict who needs a higher power.

Facts.

What makes you most anxious?

I don’t do this, and I won’t, never did, never will, always won’t, always don’t dance for anybody ever or with anybody ever, it is awful, and I hate everything about it. I know this, don’t even doubt it. I have a hard time even watching others dancing because it’s stupid,

I don’t see the point and I know it is supposed to be fun, when you are lucid.

And even when you are not, people love this and get caught

Being silly and being taught

To find joy in this but I can’t

I won’t do it, no point no chance, I hate to ****ing dance

Standing and staring someone in the eye, and doing something weird at them, yeah thanks, I think I would rather die, than do this, because it sounds like it sucks.

Stupid, lame, act of schmucks…

I don’t want anyone touch me

I don’t like bumping into things, I don’t like spinning round and round, I don’t like parties, don’t like moving up and down, I am not good at smiling I am good at frown,

I suck, I know, doesn’t show, but **** you, I don’t want to do it, please leave me alone.

I loved you, any of you who was with me, I thought… but now I don’t know, because it always ends the same

You are insane

THEN GO! I KNOW. I KNOW. I DON’T CARE. I DON’T NEED YOU. NEVER DID NEVER WILL I HAVE MYSELF

All you need is love..

All you need is to shut the **** up.

I need no one, but myself. I need to put the drugs and alcohol on the shelf, that is what I need to do, and I can’t do that with them, I can’t know that I am not going to do this again.

I can’t even be my own friend damn it.

I know, Damien.

I break up with me, every day.

I know, Damien.

I know, Amanda.

I know, me.

I know both of us.

I hate me too.

How the **** am I supposed to like anyone else if I can’t even look in the mirror, I hate everything and everyone because this sucks and it is hard, and you make me nervous because I know everyone is thinking the same damn thing that I think about me

YOU SUCK YOU SUCK YOU SUCK
You suck?

That’s what you think?

That’s what we think. They think. I think.

Do you think this is fun for anyone, who the **** would want to be around this? I don’t even want to and I am this…

Then stop doing it.

Oh.

What makes you most anxious?

I named myself See Clearly because that is not what I do, I do not see clearly at all, because my ego it is tall, or it used to be I mean, because I am a liar, a whiner and a wine-r, or not really because I prefer whiskey, or anything that is risky like heroin or meth or how about crack or death? You know things like those, things you stick in mouth or nose, or suck through glass, because I want to die, and that’s not true, what I really aim to do is..

Get the *** away from all of you, because you make me anxious, because you hate me, or maybe I do.. I don’t know… but I feel it when it you look at me please ****ing go. I am telling you go away, **** it! I hate the idea of panic and judgement, I hate you and everything you meant

To say, but didn’t, I can hear you thinking **** it, or maybe that is me? I don’t know the difference…

I guess… it’s me… what makes me anxious is me…

and addiction and lack of control and framed photos of animals in suits..

TRIGGER WARNING: About sex workers or prostitution, and revelation of moments of clarity, mentions drug use and is very graphic do not read if you can’t handle this. I am writing for my own recovery, and to cleanse my own mind and soul.

You were the last man to touch me for free, and now they will never touch me again, because I realize, I charged with the charge of a heart scarred by being untrue to me. I did not want to be with any of you at all. I was not that kind of… person. I charged for the scars to my arms, to my soul, to the eternal burning hole in everything that it is to be me, and give things heroically in falsehood because what I was really doing was buying letters carved in human skin that told stories of heroic-ness, but what I was really doing was sleeping with people for free drugs… nothing more nothing less.

We search your basement hideout for your **** which you already did, I know because we did it together, but you don’t remember this, because we were together for a second, being together in love with each other for the brief second that rocks are thrown on table,

Rock, paper scissor

Scissor, I cut you out of my life, toxic friend, and all men, that make me exchange sex for bitter rocks, cast at my soul.

I like women better anyway.

The silencer makes a whisper of the gunshot. I hold her close until she’s gone. I’ll never know what she was running from. I’ll cash her check in the morning.

frank miller

You should dye your hair red they say to Amanda, and I am in the back of her mind or screaming audibly in the sky, ask yourself why they are telling you to do this? She thinks I am being paranoid. I think I am being paranoid. I don’t think I am being paranoid. I don’t like this girl, and it looks like her hair is spray painted red for quick removal, like someone would do if they wanted to convince someone who is drunk to copy them as a cruel joke and then reveal they never did the thing at all, and they were never drunk to begin with, which we would have noticed if we weren’t always so drunk, every day.

The girl with the red hair has a name, but I am not saying it to protect the paranoia of my other drafter, she did terrible things to me and Amanda.

A rumor spreads about me having red hair. A rumor spreads about someone jacking cars who has red hair. A rumor spreads that I was seen at the scene. I wasn’t. I was in the hospital being treated for MRSA, from an infection that came from dirty drugs.

It’s funny the things people I have known have done to protect their addictions. Screw that. I like coffee better anyway, at least it doesn’t come with blood in it.

I have felt lost recently, and I have been romancing my drugs/drinks of choice through whining and making it look like I feel bad, I was just complaining because I wanted to get high or drunk and I can’t because I don’t want to, that is my choice and holding onto the idea that I am being forced by something external is insane. I am being forced by myself, because I am out. I have realized what horror my existence was to the world, to myself, to my friends, my family, and to the streets of this country, however blown out of proportion I made it for you to see what I saw, because I don’t like to tell the whole truth, I am an ***.

I am speaking for myself and Amanda, because now more than ever we are learning to speak with the same voice, instead of the masturbatory narcissism that was seen on this site so far.

If nothing else, I am looking forward to being less of an inconvenience to those that love me.

Damien

I’ll show you what do honey, it is easy really, you just lie with reckless abandon and take with impunity, giving nothing and stealing everything until they have nothing left, and then you leave and do it to someone else, you need no friends, I am you and with my help I will fuel your dreams till they become nightmares, and you will walk through a bleary eyed world of no sleep till the day you keel over and die from exhaustion.

Damien de soto, In the beginning

He came to me many times throughout my life, starting at seven years old, he was always the same age, 38. He must have done something at 38 that got to him, and he got stuck there, and paced through life stuck there, inter-dimensional time traveling ghost of Christmas future that he was, he showed me how to be everything that I am. We were thick as thieves and thieves as well. It is a very clever device to get whatever you want, all the devices he taught me, I mean. He is skilled with words, and I admired that, being a writer myself, but he was man, and had the appearance I wish I had myself, but I did not find myself attracted to him in the traditional way.

I want to hide away in the back of a cave
At the top of a mountain
Where no one can hear me and no one can see me
So I don't have to deal with them
And they don't have to deal with me

Days N Daze, “Misanthropic Drunken Loner”

I was attracted to him sure, in the way a moth is drawn to flame, and for the longest time, I chased after this, burning my heart with the hot hands of bad men, not knowing I was hunting my own self, seen through the mirror of other dimensional Damien de Soto. He was me and I was in love with myself, and the selfish pursuit of the things that made this an easier admission. I cared nothing for the human beings I robbed, tricked, lied to or manipulated, they were simply devices for spare changes that in their mental sparring with my soul, cut deeply into my ideas that I resembled anything that could be called even close to human at all. I was so in love with him because he was me, and I desired to be him.

So that is who I became.

I am not that thing anymore, do you still like me now?

More than ever. You have discovered with me that true strength is in love.

“I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself.”

Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis

I have always wanted the peace of joyous people. I am crazy. I am dominated by fear and have been since eight years old when I experienced early onset of paranoid schizophrenia. I became unable at this time to control my actions easily and began drinking and using to deal with this at 13. I would steal alcohol and drugs or buy drugs anytime I could, because I also have hydrocephalus, a birth injury from a failure of the doctor who delivered me, I am lucky to be alive, so I decided to have a hissy fit about it my whole life and use it as an excuse for my addict/alcoholic life style. I am this way because I am an addict and alcoholic first and foremost.

Since I was a child, I could not figure out what enough even meant. I don’t like being told no even by my own self. I am addicted to pain because seizures have dulled my nerves, which were further dulled by self medicating my neurotic mind with substances, which I worshiped like idols, and built my whole life around the pursuit of.

I have nothing now because I chose this, so please, my desire is not for pity, just for people to understand what drives an insane man.

I love humanity while also hating you, which I separate myself from because I am weak, terrified and selfish. I see this now in lucidity. I am so guilty every second, but trying to make my life now, not about me. I am so sorry. I am doing my best to change, my **** that I post, it helps me, it is exaggerated and mostly allegory, but my feelings are real and they are hard for me to deal with so I process them with lies that have feelings inside them.

I am missing the tips of three fingers, my thumb, index, and middle.

Heroic I thought I was consuming heroines and heroin, fire desire met with firing fire, quested after with birds of fire, in lands of firestorm and hell on earth. We burn brightly from inside out, forgetting that we are made of skin, we inject into our veins reigns of raining fire. The poison poised in my veins is a silent passenger for years, burning me with searing numbness that quiets everything, paints my world with lack of noise, taste, smell, fear and love, I run through life thinking myself free, chained on a dog leash by dissing ease of must have more, misery bound to my shackles.

I never venture too far from my captors, fearing the loss of more. I am Oliver Twist in a twisted tail of orphan as adult man, but I am an orphan of the human race, whom I abandon recklessly, chasing beasts instead of those of skinned kind. I become consumed by consuming engulfed in the flames that now are my innards, I am like a tragic dinosaur, dead already, bone formed, walking fossil through land with falling off pieces. I lost three before I could hear them falling. I have no index to guide me, lack the courage to give a thumbs up and am too prideful to admit anything touches me enough to anger me.

Telling, too bad it is too late. Heroic fool.

Heroin tool.

I am the conquering masquerade-r, I am a parade of afraid ER. I am a defender of lying, or have been, but I am trying not to be, but the mask sticks to my skin, it has worn my confidence from within to without, I am terrified and have eyes that shout get out, because I feel nothing on my face. I am the act of man misplaced, identity erased.

The conquering man, forever roaming unknown land, does not stand but flees, does not desire to be free, simply desires to flee, because it is easier than being on bent knee.

I have realized recently how much time I spent on mine, doing favors in the darkness paid in darkness, with darkness, for darkness.

I am a stereotype in so many ways, in my desire to self assert difference, I paid homage to a culture that is dying, the crusading conquering man is doomed to forever stand away, and stay nowhere. I conquered nothing, but ability to be at peace, I chained myself thinking I was stronger than those who were so much freer than me.

How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?

Then you tell me to go away, and I won’t I will watch you, as you tell her you know what’s best for us, her, you say weak demon that you are… you tell her I am every person whoever hurt her.

I don’t even have hands, and why would I kill myself? I live in her mind, that makes

NO SENSE

And she believes because

HEROIN

GO AWAY DAMIEN
Did it save you honey, is it making all of this funny instead of being what it is, with your nose runny with blood from his kiss of

FIST

You don’t punch back because he is ****

That lacks soul, or a reeking soul caged lack of man manifesting in a soul not whole.

YOU WILL NOT TOUCH ME
I WILL
GO AWAY
GET AWAY FROM US
DON’T TOUCH HER

She doesn’t belong to you, Damien you are the devil, it is in your name.

My name means tame.

She belongs to me now.

She is a human being sir, not an answer to the cancer that is your chaotic soul.

I AM HER TOO. DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME TO GET OUT OF A BODY THAT IS HALF MINE

Sorry, Amanda.

I get it.

DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH ME

She is not you, Damien, you are the devil.

THAT WAS A MOVIE DUMMY
YOU ONLY WANT HER MONEY FOR

HEROIN

I am saving the heroine.

Bury me.

okay.

Pow

Alice in Chains, Man in the Box

I like this song and boxes are cool..

Look.

That was easy.

I am kind of more awake now, see clearly, I am not addicted to caffeine. I need nothing but myself.

Liar.

I need a cup of coffee. This sucks…

I need to learn to use the ****ing

Coffee maker…

I hate being a pathetic loser.

I don’t want to break the stupid thing.

I don’t care how freakin’ dorky this band is, I love hair metal, and I think they are awesome, and there is nothing anyone can say to change my mind because I am only talking to my own insecurity right now.

Got that one? Me neither. I forgot what I meant to. Moving on.

Ever have a dream that is really reality? Me too.

By me too, I am mean yes, and if you didn’t well then… stinks to be you?

You smell I mean.

That is mean.

Must cause scene.

Must cause seen.

GET OUT

This is getting easier.

Rei and Joy went to go photograph flowers growing naturally outside in the park. Amanda is going with her father who she forgave for her getting angry at him for being a human who didn’t like to see her sad.

Jab.

I know, I told him last night I was wrong too.

He appreciates it.

Done with you now.

Me too.

Not you, they.

No you too.

I am the ever loaded never fired always aimed constant shaming upright standing IN YOUR FACE LIFE REPLACED WITH DEAD THEFTING KICK OF IN YOUR NECK

I am life theft.

I stole Pittsburgh once. His name was Alan last name Pittsburgh, though it was funny because he bought gasoline from me

DEISEL BABY
FIRE UP YOUR ENGINE
DARK OIL

Funny because GAS makes you go, and all Alan living in a A-LAN-D of Pittsburgh

SCREAMED was NO!

Gee… Thought gas made you go!

Guess I was wrong, GONG GONG GONE gone

What is that sound, is that death’s pound?

Or is that

GET ON THE ******* GROUND!!! PUT YOUR FACE ON THE PAVEMENT!

I am truth captured in word

DO YOU THINK LOOKING AT
bird

WILL SAVE YOUR LIFE????

I take out my knife, and cut a tiny mark under his eye.

I am the tears

of

**** you’re gonna DIE!!!

He cries out in pain, sounding like a cat, and I am taken back. I am standing back falling over vomiting. I am throwing up demon soul, addiction hole addict soul. I take his cash and leave. He stays on his knees.

I just want to see my daughter once last time, I just want to see her once last time, can you do me that solid? Please I will give you anything you want? Is it money you want, take my wallet. Please just let me see her one more time.

I take the cash and run.

I am misery’s gun.

I am no fun.

I am ADDICT SHUN
addiction

Enter the end of every night

Credits roll.

Take me out baby.

Okay, no lie, this is getting weird. I swear to you, I am not high, still haven’t gotten high… and I am not drunk and I am not losing my mind. I just saw my daughter’s dreams in color projected in light above her, what the… I am not losing it. I do this weird reality check thing, where I walk away, shut my eyes over and over, and I have only ever had it fail a couple times. Maybe this is one of them, but I swear there is this eerie feel to all of this, like something is going on, and there is this part of me that thinks that somehow, this has something to do with Diane, I know I am probably just being paranoid, that my ruthless unrelenting obsession with Diane is probably some narcissistic fantasy that is driving hallucination, but even if it is, the only way I can investigate this is through looking into right?

Like I can’t just be like la de da, I am just okay with seeing all this ****? I could, but what kind of life would that be? Like even if I am now permanently irreparably losing my mind due to drug use and whatever, don’t I at least owe it to myself, to figure out what the delusions are?

I can’t tell anyone this one, I know this goes contrary to everything I said before, well not really…. I always lie, but I am not lying for negative purpose this time, I feel in my being that telling anyone would be bad and I don’t know why. I feel like somehow I drew my daughter into something, and have to get her out… the only thought I have about the whole thing is maybe she is getting something from a poison source like I did, something corrupted by something, like Diane…

I don’t know….

I just wonder which one of us typed that. I logged on here, and I don’t have memory of typing it, neither does Rei and I don’t think my daughter did, because she is not here right now. I had a feeling the thing wanted her to go to the party, because it’s addiction speaking and it likes it when people party because otherwise it whnglbwilgkigheshjegnwkgnw

I kind of like it when it does that. It’s like a hand exercise, bite me.

If you can’t tell, Amanda is becoming more integrated with me, and focusing on making changes to become me, because I rule. Sorry, that was stupid.

That is why you hear very little about her life, because like mine, she spends most of it on here writing to you. Except she doesn’t have a nuclear family.

You’re an @$$^&(@!

I know.

I am leaving now.

Okay.

In case your wonder, not you Amanda, because you are me, heh….

I am not worried about having made the wrong choice about the party, she would have gone anyway even if we said no, and now she won’t resent us for not letting her go, so she is more likely to beat the virus of the mind.

But, what do I know, I am insane.

She has been telling me recently that she has a hard time sleeping like I do. I know this, because I see her walking around while I am on here. I don’t want to embarrass her so I say nothing, until recently. I think the having a hard time sleeping is about something now, and it makes me wonder if it is about the same thing that is up with me. I noticed this last night because, although I usually do not look at her when she is doing this, she seemed mentally unaware enough that I could look her right in the eyes, and I am telling you it was insane, her eyes are green… I think… I am such an asshole, but when I looked at them this time they were this unearthly blue, that looked like they were misted over entirely by a cover of the whole eye with all the white in them gone.

She has been visiting a girl who is staying in the motel room across from ours, to my dismay because I always assume that she is buying drugs or getting high if she is not in this room, I say nothing, but that is what I am thinking. I don’t think she can tell. I do not try to encroach on her freedom like Rei does, because I understand that would just make things worse, I am not sure if that comes across as understanding or cold indifference, but its all I got, so instead of trying to be something I am not, I’ll be there to support not crush her.

She talked to me last night about letting her go to this party with a strange name Fete of Feet. I don’t like it because it sounds like it is about some creepy foot fetish thing and people who have foot fetishes have a tendency to be crazy… look it up… I don’t need to.. I like feet.

Later

Damien

No. I am busy.

No you’re not going to be busy, you don’t even do anything.

You don’t do anything.

Yes, I do and you know it.

You sit on the computer all day and talk to me.

I sit on the computer all day and talk to you and help you with this blog, and I have a kid, and I have a wife…

Blah blah blah I am so important. You should come with me because it will be fun.

No it won’t, it’s going to suck and you just want it to suck for me too, and that’s not fair.

It’s not fair that you have to help me when I helped you a lot recently.

I have helped you too.

They might give me….

Okay screw you, I am going, but it’s your fault if I get addicted…

They aren’t going to give them to me, I was just kidding but now you have to go because you said you could if I gave you drugs, jerk.

Fine, so if you get drugs can I have some?

If they give me drugs I am going to refuse them, jerk.

Thanks.

You’re welcome. Jerk.

We are standing in a bar

In the back, me you and that guy I used to know with the long blonde hair.

I liked that f*^&#.

I know you did, he was basically you, just less intelligent.

Everyone is less intelligent than you.

You are just complimenting yourself.

I know, isn’t it great.

I thought you were going to spend time with your wife?

I am she is asleep on the couch behind me, my daughter is being punished for the wall incident.

She’s being punished because you kicked a dent in a car?

Yeah, because she should have known I would have done that.

Why?

Because what else was I going to do?

Be man and do the right thing.

You be a man and do the right thing.

I can’t.

What be a man or do the right thing?

I don’t even know what the right thing is.

Well it’s not tricking a&^&*%^$ at the bar to buy drinks for you and then getting paid by blonde me in things I won’t mention.

It’s not? Who knew.

You realize we are the villains in every movie that ever movie ever and also the least sympathetic characters ever?

Nope, even the devil deserves sympathy.

Did you just quote the stones?

It’s written on one of Rei’s painted rocks in here, but yes also the band even though only a couple of their songs are good.

I like Paint it Black and give me shelter.

Of course you do, demands are great aren’t they?

Yeah, why wouldn’t they be.

some weed and got in trouble because I think it had something else in it and now I know why my dad said no. I think I am doing way better at it then he does, because I am just having fun, not going around killing people or ruining the lives of women who are stupid enough to talk to some asshole standing outside in alley’s in the middle of the night. I struggle to see why my mom likes him sometimes, but others I get it. He doesn’t talk to me much because I think he is worried about saying the wrong thing, which I can understand because I have read stuff on here and most of what he says is the wrong thing.

It’s wearing off. Nice. That was easy.

I think I’ll try again later. Oh yeah. I am writing this on something he reads, damn you hereditary scizophrenia…… I can’t spell it either…..

We all sound sort of similar, it makes me feel better, sometimes….

But, mostly it makes me feel like a lame ass nerd who missed out on when my parent’s were actually cool.

Joy

Fuck it, I am doing it, because if its AI, it can already hear my thoughts, and maybe if I write it down, I can sleep?

I think Diane’s company has something to do with the AI and I think she is siphoning the souls of the millennial generation through inflicted misery they inflict on themselves with drugs, because I think Diane sells some kind of illicit substance behind closed doors in effort to take down the new generation of children, and I think that is what she wanted with me, because I am a great misery tool. Sorry, not playing anymore.

Haha.

That was on purpose.

Sorry.

I think my daughter might not remember who she is because she was stuck in the machinery of all this as was I and I think this has something to do with slavery of some kind, people serving some sort of idol which is really just a worship of drugs.

I am done, and obviously completely delusional, but I knew that already. At least I feel important now, woo!

Damien

No seriously though, I did. We can do things faster here than you can, because we get more minutes, per hour, don’t ask me how, and no it is not through doing speed. That would be miserable, and it doesn’t work. I tried, that’s what I was doing when I was losing my mind.

The way to do what we do will be explained later. It is too complicated to explain right now and quite frankly I am lazy.

I did some research on my name which I think my writer gave me for a reason.

Damien means to tame or subdue. Oh, bitter and caustic irony. I love you.

de Soto- de is Spanish meaning of and Soto apparently means small grove.

Rei- this can be either Japanese or Hebrew, Rei is not Japanese so I looked up the Hebrew name and it means my shepherd, my companion, my friend, well clearly. 😉

Clearly-

The Japanese word meaning clearly can mean that or crystal blue, funny, right?

Ever seen Breaking Bad?

Heh.

Blue water is nicer.

You are the brief release of the crashing confines of my mind.

The walls of chaotic sameness, that smash into my skin, suffocate the entirety of my being, I never feel as free, as I do with you my radiating yellow sun. I have no out other than you. I am nothing…..

I am dust, ghost, chasing vapors, catching of light, I am a spoon full of nothing but death, and long for the breath of you, one who brings life. I love you, so please, please bare with me. I am fine. We will be fine. I will eventually…. do nothing other than what I currently do.

I will hopefully, I hate… myself.

“Get away from me, Rei! Please, get away from me, don’t fuckin’ touch me!” He almost shrieks at me, and I look down, feeling instantly he doesn’t want to make eye contact with me. I don’t have any idea what happened because he won’t tell me, and I was sleeping when he went out, I think… I can’t remember. We have.. had? Been awake a couple days and I can’t tell what he is so upset about because, I wasn’t… was I there?

“I said go away!!” He glares at me, falling down to his knees into the dirt, where he stays, and I leave him. I can feel him, even as I walk away, feel the lack of unease radiating out of his body.

I look up at the night sky for a long time. It is cold where we are, I do not know where, because I do not ask him questions. I have not seen people in a long time, sometimes he keeps me out of his work, and this happens. He becomes like this. I put a piece of bitter candy in my mouth and trace the edges with the tip of my tongue. I am careful to not cut the sides of my tongue for fear of infection. Some kinds of candy is bad for the mouth.

I am slammed against a window pane… my head becomes one with hard glass as I feel him run his hands against the back of my head, he breathes in my ear and tells me to look out the window, that he sees a dove. I do not know why it was necessary for me to be pressed against the glass to see the dove. I am unsure about what he does sometimes, if it is meaningful in any way or if it is done out of some depraved desire to cause someone who loves him pain. I do not know why he must torture me so. I am here with him every day in every way, existing in the depraved fantasy of madness. Is that enough? I do not know what more anyone would want from me?

I think he wants to destroy everything that I am, and make it something else, but he doesn’t know how to make things. He seeks, but can never find, because his eyes are so trained on destruction they do not see anything. He exists in a blurry tunnel vision of murderous lack of sight, taking in a consumption of everything around him. He is the yellowing skin of the infected man, spreading like poison to those around him.

“Here,” He passes it to me, and everything is alright for a second.

“Better?” A question that needs no answer, because he knows my love of battery acid. I am the rays of the sun falling on the slight sparkle of gasoline. I am everything that shines of broken glass. I am Alice in a wonderful land of decay, I am stay. I am stay.

We can put her here for now. I throw the filthy bitch to the ground and when she falls, I can hear two of her fingers break, they sound like the snapping of branches. I start laughing, and realize I am alone, where is he? I can feel the slow and steady heaving panic setting in, but I am not sure why? I don’t need him to move, I have no home, so I belong nowhere. It is getting dark. I have no idea how long it has been since he left or I lost sight of him.

“HEY BITCH! OVER HERE!”

I laugh, the pounding stops, and we have dinner, it is some sort of stew, the insanity of normality is astounding.

I despise green eyes, like mine, she had my eyes, every time he looked at her and laughed… I wanted to cut them out…

The eyes of the beholder and also holder of my hand, I killed her where she stood, well not really… I don’t pay attention when I am extended in reflection you my ray of of the sun… she is nothing compared to you, my everything, my….

Look! Shh….

Bang. No onlookers. Silence.

Must carry them. And RUN.

Rei, open your mouth….

Oh, chaotic bitter twisting rage, how I love your crystal cage.

Lives a girl with a strange face, that radiates grace, with arms that trace my heart and dance with my soul, and eyes that scream hold me for I bring calm. She wears in her hair flowers of plenty, and sleeps on fallen palms in a garden alone decorated with white stones. She is the sensation of shining, she is the light divining the nature of man. She is the goddess of love, she has eyes of a dove. Her presence screams love, ever silently so, but my heart tells me know. I am not able. I am not ready. My knees are unsteady.

I do know you, that I know is true. I have not met you, but for some reason I regret you. I want to get away, your eyes tell me stay. You are my desire to forsake, everything I know, even though I know not. My heart is fraught with pain over the sight of you, my dear, so much so I shed tear. You are a tearing, a breaking, a heaving, a dissenting an unrelenting screaming of my soul, a digging of hole in my chest, which beats with heart gone, for I have forgotten love’s song. I am alone, even with him. I am just me, I am blind, I am not free. I cost money to be. I am the servant of the weak. I am the desire to seek.

I am of no use. I am pain’s juice.

I turn around and he’s gone. I hear nothing but solemn ding dong of clock not around, and the calling of hounds, from where I know not, but my soul it is caught in a fire storm mist, with skin writhing with twist of pain felt in in brain only, I am so lonely.

I am the poke in vain of death. I am Hell’s breath. I am cost of living spent on waters dirtied with poison.

“Bitch, if you move or make another fuckin’ noise!!!!”

I am Satan’s toys. I am destruction through time spent with men of sent from hell. I am a mind-numbing pill. I am the desire to kill.

Bang. Bang.

“Damien, let’s throw her corpse in the river,”

I am sin delivered. I am death sent. I am resent meant.

I am resentment.

That I am unlike them, I am the bender of men, I am that which transcends the desire for life. I am the remover of strife. I am one who shifts sands below the evil which stands on lands that are created by the perception of those fated to begin to exist in them, with misery persisting within. I am the birds dear, I am your ear, I am your eye. I am everything, but to die.

I stand and I listen, to the voice that shouts mission, and I lean in an kiss him, as he stands ranting about what we are chancing and chanting what we do versus what they do. I am a grim reaper, I am a soul keeper. I am the darkness of men, I am to transcend. I am a bender of minds. I am a chimer of chimes. I am not the divine but the human bind. I am made of skin so I sin. I rot from within. I am to make thin, the pockets of those drug addicts and whore’s who eat sinister hors d’oeuvres. I am the action of the score, I am man’s aching sore, I am the universe’s whore. I am your human desire for more.

I am the ever-presenting questioning mind of God. I am the one who makes rod. I am sod. I am a liar, I am none of these things, I am one of the fallen, and have no wings. I am a bringer of pain and death. I am riddle, I am your quest. I am request for lack of pain stolen with lies. I am despise. I am darkness. I am pain. I am disdain.

In a world so sore, with remorse, I am the source. I am the darkness, I am your kin. I am sin. I bring you in. I am your maker, I am liar, I am fire. I am deception, I am deceit. I am replete. I am judgement. I am hate. I can relate with no man, because I steal from plates. I aim to please, I cut at knees. I am disease.

I aim to chop off all that you love, I fly on wings stolen from doves. I act like I come from above, but I come from Hell, I aim to tell you that you are weak, but it is me of whom I speak. I am fear. I am loss. I am to be shunned at all cost.

And I am his, I am sorry it must come to this, and now your wrist

I must take, and only a tiny cut must I make.

Now see my dear, though you don’t seem to hear…. I am telling you in words quite clear.

It must look like suicide, because we need your money, and you must die.

I need my fix baby, not to go down, I am sorry please don’t frown. Bitch, look fucking down! Your eyes, your eyes cast them to the ground, don’t look at me! Now don’t you see! I am not doing this, it’s him not me!

You whore, you slut! I hate you, bitch! Why wouldn’t you listen, It didn’t have to be like this…. Now look at the mess you made?! Now I have to dig a fucking grave.

I am not too good at this I know,
I am not like him
Does it show?
But, I did good…. She’s dead I swear,
She lays on the fucking stairs.

Now I must move her and dig a grave, if I were him the time I would save, She could have been left here on the stairs and look like she had not a care, just taken her sweet life away, and people would probably say, no wonder poor addict… isn’t sad? But, you know most people would probably just look away and in their lack of care say,

Too bad so sad, so see….

I did the world a favor, well him and me. Now as I bury, this dirty bitch…

Damien, give me a kiss…

I am helping I know, he says I should go, with him to get her.

I have to do this first.

I inhale it slowly, so now I must be, able to do it.

I can see right through it. Clear till the end.

Our love, I will defend,

Even if means her end.

I will… BITCH DON’T FUCKING MOVE!

Sorry, for the injection, it’s a sign of affection, and my desire for his.

You must to come to this.

And I am not sure why… because he gave me back my body doing this…. running…. can’t breathe… but something in me knows that…

I need… to get… away from these…. train… tracks.

I don’t know why, because they are abandoned, or that is what it seems like, can’t remember whether they were a transit train meant for people, or if they were for freight.. no you know what… I’m lying… freight… I think to myself while almost tripping over….

What the fuck… why is my ankle bending sideways… did he break my… I swear… what the..,

I fall to the side.. It feels like my legs are rubber… or like they have no bones… or like I am one of those dolls you press down on and they fall over…

Stupid fucker… what did you take…

The word that repeats in her head was painted by her lover in bed. It plays over and over, like a found four leaf clover, she keeps it in cover meant not for

Her but for her lover, instead,

Oh, my sweet, how lucky am I,

Apple of your

Eye,

I’m Crying I implore you

To lay still while I kiss you over

and over

My four leaf clover,

Oh sweet lover of mine.