still more.

walk. walk untill you bleed.

fast. fast untill you starve. wait for your bones to break. taste dust. taste the nothing that once was filled your mouth and wet your tounge for words. beg. beg for every scrape you need to survive. never recieve. go mad. know what it is to love. then loss your mind. this is life. this is what it is to live. this is the only way to feel with intinsity. this is the only way to feel any thing at all.  numb your brain then allow the blooks to lift. think of trees and coarse rope. think your old frineds burning the garden. think of his eyes as he staired. think of the smirk and the grin. his chin as he shook a condesnding, saticisfied expressing and walked away. 

naked. that moment presses your forever naked. remove that image from his mind. cut that moment from existance and who are you. what shapes a reality forgotten moments after it happens. 

new life spung from depression and sadness. space is the hope that often paintes these withered shells. 

ripping though the darknest manifest in the night. desire leaves you barren and words fleeting. 

i am not saticififed. 

where have you been. where are you. who are you. did we ever know. 

who am i?

contextual

drunk. dunk on water and snot. drunk on the life that seaps into skin though the holes too small to see. blured vision and dead sight. fope for tomorrow and a razor thin blade to balance desire and need. when it fails split it in half. when she fails split her in half.

where ahve you been?
black cloth, pilled cotten, rough on pale skin wool sheets over crimson silk. stark contrast. in every way these his sight caught the contrast. feeling his own skin for the first time in days. years. blood rush and blood lust. he grips her leg in his and slids his hips up her thigh. its not the skin that he craves. its not the pleasure that bought him back here. he looks deep. deep into eyes long forgotten. a scent rises to his sences and sends shivers through him. his eyes close and head turns back.

shes reminded of the snake. the way it stairs so still before the strike. she feels the cold on her back. the coarse on her side and sees the way her skin paints her naked upon this bed. she has no remorse. no fear, or desire. these emotions lack name but have corsed though her before. this is what it means to love him. awaiting extasy and expecting stake.

images pass. written in ink and water coller then transposed though peep holes brodcasted to the nerve centers least likely to remember and recorded in missspelled words wtitten in the waking hours lost mornings. sleeping bodies fill the sould of the maind lost. discription of parel is never spoken and never undetood by the long silent narator.

he feels mouth water as his teeth press her neck. who is this girl. not the one in his arms. the one in his mind. th\epping through gass placed there by children he remembers flight. ringing the blood from his wings he remembers winds. this is not why we made you.


transparent he stairs. drunk again in his use. theres no poing in testing depth when the bottom is clear.

now she has two

i am not what you want i am not what your after i am not what you want singing the laughter
i am not what you want i am not what your after i am not what your up to drowning in laughter
im not what you want im not what i was im not who we are
turning the pages blind lost bizarre.

its been more then the morrow and the wind still sing true, love was her own voice, now she has two.
falling for nothing, drinking in lost night, pushing to end, and coming up full.

so long has the bird flown that winds find no flight, absent their gods voice void of the light.
rivers run side ways take up your arms, soak in the sunlight, pray the night.

im not what you want, but pay that no notice, i am what is present and what will remain. mindful of for sight and lacking the will, sink to old ways and dig us our graves.
thought comes much later interpretation breeds meaning, this just pointless, i am addressing im leaving.

i am not what you want, i am not what your after. post this so public that children will cry, scream it from roof tops staring on high

Prophecy

walking home was habit.
his body moved with out thought.
his feet know the numbers of stones on the old rode and spots on the bridge that would twist an ankle. his hands found their way to railings that his eyes could not grasp. the night was cold. the sky black with what most assumed to clouds. the lights still out for most of the surface. those who remained stayed deep with their dwellings. there were no more tourists or merchants on this route. just him and the bite from the frost air.

his head was down and he couldn't tell you if his eyes were open or closed, but his ears griped tightly the humming with in them. her words played games in his mind. bouncing off the walls as if constrained to pads and a white jacket, all convoluted and twisting in circles merging into a new sequence as he moved.

 ...your on the right path but keep moving.... your death will lays in what you hold on to even now.... your mind cannot make this pass alone...

he holds on to nothing. head phones ring out songs from before the change. the battery light had been flashing for weeks but tonight seemed worthy of the sound. the air was still as he came to the bridge. his finger tips found the frozen rail and his feet flowed up the slow incline. cobblestone and ash made this the path shimmer on most nights. nights with a moon and nights with stars. tonight there was only darkness. at the top of the slope he stops. his heart skips. what you are holding on to even now... his right hand clutches the mp3 player he had been coveting since the fall. he looks at the screen as the battery light goes dark.
The music stops.

He stands at the center of the bridge and listens to the silence. the silence only created by snow...
only there was no snow. and this silence wasn't soft. his mind raced through time to swimming as a child. entering the natitorium for a work out and knowing the pool was empty. not by sight. by sound.

the water is gone. he slips the head phones out of each ear with out removing his hood and stairs both hands on the icy rail down the barren river bed. his eyes see only blackness, his ears tell a different story. his head phones slip through his shirt and the old player clicks against the concrete. the sound echos in every direction. then the screaming. the words repeat ...what you are holding on to even now... 
the shirking grows closer.

as the timer had exhausted, he stairs and listens, until all at once he turns and he runs. cold air filling his lungs and feeling escaping his feet, he runs to edge of the bridge and past it, to the only chance he has left.
you cannot make this pass alone...

eyes glow green

running, still running. its as if a fire were set ablaze in every unseen corner, and we are the only ones who can see.

an orange glow damped the green lights, but did nothing to ease the cut of the wind. being too close was burning alive, too far, freezing to death.

Hood still pulled far over your face, as far as one can be from another while sitting in a circle. favoring the crackle of the blaze and the howl of the wind to conversation.

"its a wonder the powers still on."
you don't move to acknowledge my words.
louder now,
"its a wonder that these lights have stayed powered this long"
this time your head lifts, one eye brow raised and your cheek tense, you look confused, or annoyed.
"what?"
i hesitate and stutter over my words, thinking that this must be a trap, some how, your still angry... I try my luck.
this time with eye contact.
"I said, I cant believe there's still power out here."
you look as though I'm speaking in riddles and gaze almost frozen back at me.
"listen, if you don't want to talk that's fine, I'm heading to bed.."
my last words spoken as i turn away from the fire my head still down, watching my footing as I stand
"Wait!", you stand and reach out your arm across the fire,
when my head turns I see the what the fire was hididng from your eyes, horror, not resentment or anger, horror.
"There is no power here," you stammer across the flames,
we both freeze, eyes lock on each others, your hand tight around my arm
"what the hell do you see out there, because the only light is this fire."

there are no words only the absence of sound that has stolen the whole of my throat when my mouth opens.

we run.