Wound strings, far too tight
About to burst
A gentle smile spoke a thousand lies
To hide one truth
The sad skeleton couldn’t help but laugh,
I offered a cigarette.

Into the unknown holding hands,
Skin about to burn
The things you love might kill you from the inside
If you’re not careful enough
A chameleon that thinks too much got itself in trouble
no more cigarettes…

There was a skull-shaped birthmark on her cheek
Near the place her neck was cut.
Skin tears.

Another morning comes, dreadfully
Another night arrives, spitefully
There’s nothing in the distance.


How many times will I apologize (to no one in particular) about not posting in a while, not that it matters in the long run, but… I can’t help but feel like it is something that I should do more, even if no one reads.

Or rather,

It’s something I want to do more, then again there’s a ton of things I haven’t finished, so I should focus my efforts more on that, since they too are things I very much want to do, namely comics/graphic novels and actual full-text novels and short stories.

Right now as useless as I am the only thing I can do is to keep working towards getting “there” wherever that place may be.


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