1676.

We are cannibals,
devouring the tender
insides like sweet meat.

1675.

I tend these scars so
abrasively that they will
not heal. Memory.

1674.

You are a drug that
feeds the same senses getting
numb. Heart extremes.

1673.

All these petals in
bloom seduce as a prelude
to steady murder.

1672.

We are so scared of
shadows as monsters that we
forget the ones seen.

1671.

This brain keeps jumping
the track between head and heart,
so just stays crashing.

1670.

Anxiety a
constant state in which only
loneliness resides.

1669.

My heart is lodged in
the underbelly of all
those lost emotions.

Short break.

Due to some health issues, I'll be away from updating this blog until May 15th, 2014. Just a brief update in case anyone notices the absence. Thanks.

1668.

Fervency's design
orchestrates the obvious
into the missing.

1667.

Beauty too often
hides within the arms of those
who deny its grasp.

1666.

Fatalism the
common view of the missing
motive's realist.

1665.

I will die as I
have lived. Alone and lost to
the idea of love.

1664.

Beliefs fall like stars,
burnt out and shooting. Bleeding
is all that remains.