Dreams
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Make your own decisions. Keep going despite the unknowing voices that try to steer you away from the sun. Take control of those flashes of brilliance. Let them burn like wild fire on the plains of desolate cities. Through the thick and thin, there’s no other feeling that comes close. Do what you know. On… Read more
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The nights burn, and the mornings drown. All those discoveries made in drunken seas of creation, forever lost the minute my eyes open to face another day. The lonesome hours of the evening take me on a journey. They show me things others can’t fathom. The stars in the sky watch as my body dissolves… Read more
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Piss stains on expensive carpets. Autumn leaves turned to dust between pages of explicit literature. Light a cigarette, stub it out. Masturbate to the sound of storms whilst stray cats drown in watery chasms. Smile at old photographs as your father sleeps the night away in dreams of cancer. The radiator leaks and drips water… Read more
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Be prepared for hangovers that last a lifetime. Dreaming or living, I haven’t yet decided. Lost in fields of sunflowers, her body shimmers like a glass staircase to the moon. As a cigarette falls from my fingers, thoughts of her dance in my reckless mind as a dirge of hipsters push their way to… Read more
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Blankets consisting of cigarette burns. Dyslexic intent as she crawls deformed at the foot of my bed. So real despite the dawn of time that knows no end as my hand slides up her delicate skirt. A handful of hair as she pushes herself against my hips, the moon appears through the window with a… Read more
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In pools of water beneath the stars, an innocent dies. With crucifixes clutched by figures covered with soil, the moon was my witness. There’s nothing that can’t be done. She knows it, as does the mob that wait for our approach. Summers spent alone with views of turbulent seas. Write this all down, and… Read more
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Anxiety leading to depression, or maybe it’s the other way around. Drinking doesn’t help; that’s for sure. All that morning nausea and fear of the future. The fear of stepping foot outside the front door. Being sick in the kitchen sink. Sweat trickling down my face as I curled into a ball at the… Read more
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They lurk with child killers and rapists. Hiding in plain sight, and feeding on the blood of the young. Artists hung out to dry. No time to say goodbye as the blade snuffs out life. In her belly then across her throat. In Brazilian forests, along with the wastelands in Russia, the journey from life… Read more
