what must i repent for in order to get what i crave?

this time three years ago I fell in love. Not the sweet kind of love. the kind of love that melts in your fist and leaves your open palm sticky and wet. the kind of love that fills your lungs with cigarette smoke and humid october air. the kind that sends you soaring above the ci...

is it possible to miss things we’ve never experienced? Once we get a taste they are unforgettable. The desire is all consuming.

gorging himself on my heart only to spit it back out again

A mirror that reflects only the worst parts of me

the war on death

you once had so many stories to tell. you are now the story I will tell for the rest of my life.

I have these memories of feelings, of ambience that haunt me. Not events, but feelings of nostalgia for time periods that I barely remember. The urge to write is the urge to capture these illusive dreams of memory

the double paned windows in that small apartment created the illusion of two moons watching over us

writing is a solitary endeavor. no one to tell you how one scene is similar to another that exists in a book you’ve never read.

things formed from tragedy

the more we speak the further we delude ourselves

unwelcome interactions

eradicating the self

to be a physical being next to yours

mistaking intrusive thoughts for intuition

sinking, nameless dread

the paralyzing fear that nothing will ever be as it is now or as it was then ever again

i’ve waited for february my whole life, once it’s gone i wait for it to return again and again

taking down your new phone number on my hand

the benefit of silent thought

seeking something in you that i can't find within myself

the first thing will signify the last

a life poisoned by love

memories that I don’t know what to do with

the sensation that time is passing more quickly than ever

crape on the door to my heart