If variety is the spice of life, my sobriety isequivalent to rolling seven on a cubic dice. Standing tall like united lice on laboratory prisoned mice will sooth the soul and mute the sighs. Goodbyes are poor receptions in...

Can i ask you to ask me if i’m okay? Is it weird if i don’t listen to that question anyway?Isn’t it silly to live life with a raised chin, while my body is covered with more scar tissue...

A letter to my dearest Tears combined with ink Memories which i cheer in Nightmares in which i sink An endless fall to bottom Beyond the tears and soil Passing sights of sodom Sanity creaks in need of oil...