Writer’s block engages with a bite that breaks the spine
The road to greener pastures is the hardest one to find
Spent a portion of my life in dedication to the climb
But I’m a lower-rung outcast who’s running out of time –
Never mind
I’ve tasted every drop of blood worth tasting and I’m still in search of something that can satiate my craving
Or substantiate their claiming that we’re brothers formed from dust
But I’m too H.P. in my Craft. The love is never worth the blood-lust
I lay awake in wait that I’ll soon bloom,
I often dream of gardens while I’m tending to my wounds
The tide is coming in, I fear that I’ll be drowning soon
I whisper promises and sonnets and my secrets to the moon – she calls
A beacon only I can see; Eyes like the sea they seize me and I cease to be
O’brother “Wait for me to bloom” – Ascension from the tension that I’ve carried since the womb
(I’m gone) My little Jezebel, My darling heretic,
I lay beneath thee on a bed made up of rotting flesh
I’ll tear apart every piece until there’s nothing left,
I’m just a hollow shell – come see my emptiness

Swing low sweet chariot, low enough for me.
The lowest of the low the dirt is wasted on my feet.

And I’ll keep track of all the hours, and every piece of you devoured
Until my soul is over-powered, and I’m left wilting like a worn out flower
Wolf’s Bane on my tongue, Wolf’s Rain – chase the sun
In chains – I’m the one who never ends what he’s begun
I chase the pain like I’m in love with it – masochist
Find another chaser for the medicine
My demons tell me I’m healthy, they say I’m clean but I’m filthy
They tell me everything lovely, in truth I’d rather they kill me,
In truth I’d rather not know me
I’d rather you didn’t too, I’d rather sleep ‘til I’m fifty, I’d rather pin this on you.
And there’s no hope for all these passers-by, I say my cheap goodbyes and then I pass them by.
I bleed beneath a sea of endlessness, where I confide in my departed friends,
They tell me all the things I dearly miss, but inside I know I’m a piece of shit.
I share my secrets in my shallowness
But my heart’s still beating in my broken chest.