madness. sharp gnashing of teeth. let's not be so abstruse, we can define our lines by individual realities.
every me, every you.
these dreams grow more vivid each time i sleep. potent, tar-thick illuminations dancing through the back alleys of my conscious, reflections of soul on glass windows. he's little more than the shadow of a monster, dressed in cheap lace and ribbons.
i've an insatiable need to feel more. to be more, to belong, to be possessed, to possess. to claim and be claimed and to feel my flesh burn with the heat of passing moments, passion made undiluted and, really, we're just so goddamn carnal. i want carnage.
i want to lay sprawled on sweat-stained sheets and kiss the tears from your eyes and savor the burn where nails marked my skin.
give me some kind of mutuality. i'm just an animal.
don't understand these flourishing idealists with theories of humanity's greatness and the pride of the prejudice against all else. infantile parasites. pretty little parasites.
never mind them. let's run through the trees and make paths through forests no man has ever seen, moonlight as our guide and fireflies the dancing lanterns of our road. It won't take you anywhere, but i'll meet you at the end.
woods and waterfalls and beaches and sunsets and starry nights on rooftops.
i miss home. whatever happened to me? since when did i become this semi-civilized, thing, held in a house and boxed in by walls? since when was i pretending to be a man?
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dysphoric ashes.
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