seasalt and battling

the tide rushes in around her world and the gentle rocking silents the crusade on the battlefronts of her psyche. who cares anymore about the silents screams ripping throughout the walls of solitude kept absent in her thoughts her will her hopes and dreams, she still aspires to dream to feel the flesh holding her heart within aching choruses digging into those emotions that drive her onward. the sails are open and the wind gusts frequently pushing her fragile boat into the waves of indifference that lunges upward towards the deck she stands firmly upon picking her star out from the millions encompassing the horizon. the vertigo is her only companion as a void left staring in the dark devouring the absence becoming the all vanishing into itself once again till your words streak across the clouds forcing the sweat and blood and air all in a swift movement, was it really there ever-present lullabye grey within beautiful without sratching the surface exposure the skin flakes away snowing a haze of confusion based emotion turmoil. these words paint images chaos possessing the melancholy drain stagnant alluring with dreams of mortality immortality beckons to greed blood and gold in pandora’s box illicit investigation seductive deduction incessant creativity quicksand devours from beneath the sands of time. indifference decadence shades of love and fondness obsessive infatuation emolument fiberoptic semantics rotate unsubstantial torpid drug manifesting touch consilidate blah blah fundamental introduction would you like to sit awhile and listen to the me of nothingness and blindness and fatigue. your thoughts race inside my mind i hear words raging inside outside what does it all mean when your words pick at my strings can you still make me dance with such ease distracting the dagger pushed swiftly into my back as you say pay it no mind it will only hurt for a moment as the life bleeds clean of you and your taint, think nothing of it, in a moment it will mean nothing something you might forget what was it i can’t really remember if it was really you or had my skeletons got the best of me.

*insert creepy music

 the show must go on they say, why hasn’t it begun already, the curtains are still drawn as the beginning is no longer so sure and so real so sure it is so real anymore. could the end have passed us by? and why must we no longer pretend our story reads through the script placed among these fingers tracing those words which speak of evil and viligance contracting thoughts inside meanings of words entangled in worlds gone and forgotten dragging us away to last star in sight.

*applauses*

*on air*

the blinking light is blinding letter to letter words form indifference disconcerning night time formula, place batteries here and listen for the ticking stabbing at your ears. endrunkenly reverberating overlapping dwindling fading away.

nothing

bleed me free, remember just a few quarts of oil and a gallon of windsheild washer fluid