At first glance, he's is but an ordinary man; but I fear to stare into those gentle eyes of his. His eyes are as Lucifer. Beneath the angel of light is a demon, who steal away my soul or at least my heart, if I am foolish enough to give him an opportunity. Call it sluttish, the...
and now you borne
out of my blues
held in bondage
you unlock my cage
on my psychic landscape
take from me this living suicide,
normalcy, insanity, tortured dreams,
you crawl over my skin
tears and blood,
like breaking glass-shattered though my head and the pain of opened flesh and sake-skin shed in the blood and sheets and everything was spinning in the alcohol-shot-glass spattered with saliva and lipstick-prints you said would all make sense in the end…
I heard the shot...