| Art is for fagots and your all going to die and maybe you'll get stabbed for stealing some mexican's coveted holy lunch chair during c lunch |
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timesthese are the times, the times when you gaze into indifferent eyes that whisper threats which surrender my depth, these are the times you planttimes
false roots deep within dead unproductive air, these are the days when the suns rays travel as fast as your heart skips a beat, those are the nights when 3 miles down is far from enough but 3 more is way to near, this is the year of conniving shadows that pretend to hold identity and purpose, its under these gray cold skies that history is rewound and played by the great moons luminescence, among the fields of grain and salt, its among these seas where dreams were born but never ach
by ~ViolentMercurey
hunchedi hunger for things unknown such as the sky painted with life and my feet unweighted. let there be no question when differing the sun from the dirt just as i instinctively hope the carbon sets you aflame, unfaltered and brilliant like the day of earth and her creations, brimming with existence and sun drowned emotion paint it yellow, never black, and weather nothing untouched; yet unify this life with the departed, compile it whole. and if it keeps growing and adjusting we'll be able to manipulate and conjour this unseemingly bliss known as reality i never had a conflict with separating the sky with thunched
by ~ViolentMercurey
the citythe only god I've ever seen was in the face of a puddle exuding depth and murky shorelines like lenses that scratch on steel iron stairs just to peel the white now green coating in a manner bitter sweet yet subduedly as if green escaping shoe print exhausted cracks beneath the cities smoky horizon line could explain existence and why we are as we are today the bustle of early morning patterns are so overwhelmingly systematic it limits by perspective of the matter as complicated machines, gears turning and rusting to achieve an ultimate goal that effects only the product and never the factors the factors beinthe city
by ~ViolentMercurey
greyhouse effectIn an exclamatory showcase of integration regarding emotion and reason, my meaning was reduced to shambles and braces that rust but never break. The rawness of what may or once lay beneath sought to tremble with thoughts and dreams of one day soaring above the blazing celestials that now mock cynically from above. And so it progresses and concludes; the metallic czar who drowned you in a cold wet fear finally held his head up to what you salute each and every reliable fall, the standards of conformity, the meaning of it's and our existence, the system that locks your soul and rants to you in tongues which amount to naught besides tgreyhouse effect
by ~ViolentMercurey
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- Favourite poet or writer: Jim Morrison, Conor Oberst, Ghandi
- Shell of choice: butt shell
- Wallpaper of choice: forskin
- Favourite game: your a vegetable
- Personal Quote: clitouris
- Tools of the Trade: my vulva
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If the world could remain within a frame like a painting on the wall, I think we'd see the beauty then and stand staring in awe.
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