Still anchor, sunk, in tear rippled sea. 

Written by J.DoucetteCopyright © September 2025 All rights reserved.The Result of Never:Life didn’t pauseIt didn’t warn meIt just shifted—and suddenly,there you wereI blinkedI gaspedno way… is this real?YesIt wasfor both of usIn that oneundeniable moment—it wasbut it takes workmutual...

darkness dwells inside anger tremblesa lull in my speech means I am thinkingdevouring the light which shinesshrinking psychedelic thinkingstrobes of misery spinmy thoughts expandwith ideas of hurt to recallmy mind looks at the worldgood with fangs and clawsthe dark...

A flower of imperfection, I am, waning with the passing seasons.  Springtime flowers budding to summertime flowering.  this fall time senescence  to wintertime death.  Black flower of psychosis, withering in bloom and beauty withering.  The season of fresh hallucinations  is indeed upon me!