thus, with a kiss

a glare in the mirror, a diamond in the rough; a glimmer in the dark, fake smiles aren't enough. an arcade fire with enclosed flames, a distorted smile with a euphoric frame. coming-of-age novels and emboldening quotes, highlighted resolutions in a stranger's anecdote. a deer in the headlights, it is death man pursues. the fireflies in your stomach, darling, they get scared too. delicate knuckles are not meant for punching walls. parched lips do not indulge alcohol. acidic raindrops fall from eyes, integuments should not the crimson compromised. the tobacco cigar between your fingers, is no haven for when desolation lingers. if love is just a game, what fragile hope it must proclaim. if it is a mask you wear, independently, the pain you must bear. when fear shelters your disguise, self loathe will leave you bitterly mesmerized. and if - a monotonous chant in your head - those incessant slanders, incompetence it will spread. but be warned, the devil is a ...

there is a black hole in my chest, a titanium bullet in my heart, and a quicksand in my head. i am in a trance in which I am forced to confront the negative obscurities of life's lonesome voyages. there is a constancy: the raft of dysphoria, paralyzing my body and using it, as if life is a puppet show and I am the puppet. i am a facade with a malevolent puppeteer, controlling the actions that my faltering bones partake in. he knits my lips together with his soft wool yarn dipped in ombre blue dye. he builds a soft gray doll house to shelter me and leaves stainless steel bars to guard me. he adheres me to the crib that he constructed, so I will be taunted by his insidious laughter. he decorates my king-sized bed with the aroma of a thousand roses and convinces me of the hell-bound world beyond this desolate chamber. he tells me that the world is just a masquerade ball and to be pure, I must be devoid of all contact. he bombards and fills my inside with his animosity. my p...

i am hopelessly in love with the irony of things and the melodramatics of this world. i am hopelessly in love with metaphorical ideas and personified literature. i am hopelessly in love with 3 AM thoughts, engulfing me whole. i am hopelessly in love with the hopefulness that I hear love brings. i am hopelessly in love with the hollow ache that accompanies my lust for nostalgia. i am in love with mythology, folklore, and theories of an alternate universe. i am in love with thoughts, ideas and expressions. i am in love with raspy tunes and morbid lyrics. i am in love with overly optimistic Pinterest boards and overly pessimistic Tumblr posts. i am in love with flower fields, starry skies, and ember red horizons. i am a sailor lost in a sea of melancholy. i attempt to ride the waves back to shore, but its tender arms ceases to carry me home. i am a rusted silver dime in a jar of polished golden coins, for I will never truly know where I belong. i am the song that sad peop...

a somber black rose embroidered with melancholic thorns, shuddering under the daunting touch of the other reds, dispersed like the waves of a scarlet ocean swaying in perfect unison to the howling wind all rights reserved