Plain Skeletons

I have a plain skeleton,

There is nothing particular about it that makes it special or odd when compared to that of another person. It creaks with every brittle movement, threatens to break away into ashy remains and just overall works like that of everybody else. There’s no marks that tell some great story or that show just traumatizing grief can be. There’s nothing to show where I’ve been or where I’ll be. There is nothing here but a plain but disturbed existence.


Follow Me:



Wicked Reflection

Last summer a fair came to town. But it wasn’t your ordinary fair, this one was different. It brought a odd atmosphere with it, I’m sure it choked a few brain cells on its way in. My friends said I was just being paranoid and they told me that all I needed was to enjoy the festivities. I remember I went into this one tent in particular and they had those funny mirrors in them. It was fun at first and everyone around me looked like they were enjoying themselves but the longer I stayed in there the more I got this weird feeling.

My reflection started to change the longer I looked into the mirror. I thought it was just an illusional first. I tried to leave and get some air foolishly thinking it would clear my head. But everywhere I looked there it was, or more there I was I suppose. Everywhere I went there was always this distorted version following me around becoming more vivid with each movement. Every insecurity and thing I didn’t like about myself was now alive. I wonder if humans ever experience this when they look in a mirror too?

Dear Space Boy

Dear Space Boy,

I have a space brother. His hair looks like fire and he calls it his wrath. Mother says he tries to drink the galaxies away. Maybe if I catch the moon he’ll finally stay for a little while. She says if he offers you a drink don’t take any but if I do maybe one day I can be space too.

Don’t Pet My Feet

(Trigger Warning)

I’m a astronaut hanging form the ceiling

I always said I’d touch the stars

one day

when I die

will you just brush my ashes away

because I never made friends with myself

and the lies are why I fly so high

like a noose around my neck

opps did I say that

I meant the truth set me loose

isn’t that what it’s supposed to do


Did I ever tell you how much I hate the colour yellow? I can’t see that stupid colour without thinking about you. Your favourite colour was yellow and I think that’s the funniest part of it all. You had a yellow car to go with your best yellow shirt that just so happen to conveniently match the little yellow pill you took every single damn day.

There was a window at the Crossroad

There was a window at the crossroad

I tried to open it                                     they said it’d help me to breathe

but the only thing it’s done is suffocate the truth out of me

My soul feels vandalized                             Is this being fine


There was a window at the crossroad

It was stained black                                         and tainted red

it had the words ‘Monsters Live Here’ carved above my head

Something about it was familiar                 This is home


There was a window at the crossroad

I’m counting voices                                        But I can’t find mine

there are too many things I should have done differently

I can see it in the window pain                     In the way they call my name

The Guilt of Growing Up

I’ve been stacking boxes for the last 17 Goddamn days

I’ve been making memories

just so I could store them for future generations

To prove to them that I was alive

See this picture right here                       Yeah this one

See I’m smiling                                         I was alive once