MyRedAbyss
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y’know, you’re looking for answers in all the wrong places always running craving some kind of mental clarity but all you ever do is push those around you away further and further each day y’know, if it wasn’t so tragic it would be funny and i’d laugh until my sides burst emptying my alcoholic guts… Read more
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hey, don’t be dragged down by the fuckers that hate themselves for being so ugly for it must be so gruesome to wear their awful faces with lying, empty hearts beating in their horrid, awful chests they’ll do anything they can to mutilate the beauty of what you are slashing at your dreams and pissing… Read more
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the sounds of drilling and dogs barking no other people just me and my self loathing basking in sickly sunshine cigarettes and headaches emptiness forever even the trees don’t care for what i have to say they just sway like they’ve done for centuries everything goes on pain, love and misery oh misery me stood… Read more
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open the bottle and taste a little sweetness to go against the shame it’s raining, maybe snowing and i’m howling to the moon my veins are pumping, balls throbbing and there’s just no way of knowing what i’m really like but the taste of it is enough to make me numb the way i stick… Read more
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All the lovers, desperately wanting to cling. Give in to lust, to the cheaply things that make us feel so good. Only human, only animal. All days spent bound to the chains of nature. Let it reduce, and let it seduce, you, into thinking it’s some kind of beauty. The pleasures of flesh, of being… Read more
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Mountains and darkness. Immersed in deep water, the kind that hasn’t seen the light of day for years. Sparkling, dizzying. Teeth and candles, dazzling like dreams. Unbalanced and unhinged, falling apart as sunshine creeps upon freshly washed skin. It’s autumn, or possibly early winter. The afternoon is young, yet the chill wind that blows tells… Read more
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stood in the kitchen with my hands upon your hips and your lips touching mine the warm september sun shines through the open door leading to a garden you played in as a child sometimes it’s the smallest things that tell you it’s real love the scent of perfume and the wind dancing with your… Read more
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On a friday night like this, there’s nothing you can think of doing. You could be anywhere in the world, sleeping with the most beautiful women imaginable. You could be in America, or maybe Venice. Smoking cigarettes and drinking champagne as the gondolas pass by your side. The bars alive with romantic souls, the air… Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 