“The Outlands”: Underprepared pt. II

There’s nothing out there but cold, blank stares icy meeting hands let melting, trembling, scared ‘how to use your voice’ when all is left, so withered; weird? so underprepared — ill, forgotten, fragile and feared? “How the hell do we get out of here?”, they asked so fucking sincerely when all is at yet another loss, you’d think this bitch knew pain yearly routinely, regularly — fixed on the moved When all has since called you to act That is all that you’ve failed to do where the fuck is this life taking you? And how certain were you this … Continue reading “The Outlands”: Underprepared pt. II

Sunrise Voodoo

On days I’d rather kill you, than tell the motherfucking truth (sad as it may be) I have family in Egypt speaking prayers for me, meanwhile My family here disowns me, telling lies just to control me letting these motherfucking pigs roll me with warrants to stop the riots I seek to bleed out however desperately Bitch you don’t fucking own me, try and find me, FINE ME; God knows you still can’t see Just as much as I can’t sleep No peace in the East No war in the West Get fucked, you Pussies Signed, The Motherfucking Best Continue reading Sunrise Voodoo

This is.

When and where? Probably in the middle of fucking nowhere Not in this constant bliss and pain that leads me there but rather Somewhere with you, whoever you are I probably have no clue, and at this point don’t care With little to no recollection of, The fires burning out in my heart To which you’ve decidedly chosen I know next to nothing of How depleting, in dim-lit shades were the layers of your heart left shattered That I couldnt fully face when all was left so unspoken and, yet, true When my whole fucking life had led me to … Continue reading This is.

Motherfucking.

Distance in a stance I’d rather choose to repeat than lose out on anymore motherfucking sleep. I can’t seem to write it out, but I have reason to let you know and I have far more reason to doubt that all we had once hoped for is seemingly playing out as a little less than the love we had once expressed. It was obvious to be a forgotten thing, in lives far too dismantled to simply be, one, with all we’d come to love; as emptiness provoked the last few remnants of. And I remained further absent from the cause. … Continue reading Motherfucking.