It is as delicate and solitary, as the night is dark and indulgent. My mind. You have prodded at it enough. Callused membrane. Futility exists, when trying to comprehend its contents. There is no use to indulge yourself within the realms of honesty and purity. There are no thoughts for you to reflect upon, or to bathe within. The sweet sad notes of your voice; lingering and tingling within the shards of broken glass you swallowed. There is no future here for you to dwell within. There only exists the past of consecrated misfortunes and prior devastations, which will only know your broken words and thoughts, for your consideration. The tingling of shattered nerves, seem to scratch and itch within themselves. Ready to ignite the soulmates and the soul’s fates. You were speaking empty words, with a native tongue, within the singularity of tempting the masses. Your people. Sweating and wetting upon your unguarded fleshy mind. A doormat for strangers to walk over. Welcome. Come on in. Make yourself at home. The song within your beaten heart, will never be sung nor heard. The stinging within your words, will forever linger upon your dripping tongue. Another shattered and lathered bedtime story. Waiting for me to tuck you in; tucking you back into your coma. Time flies when you are unconscious, as this is the best way to travel. Dead weight as carry-on luggage. Dead weight for others to carry-on. An inconsideration you will always consider. I can hear your necrotic whispers in my ears. You thought they would sound sexy in my ears. My ears have heard it all.
Tag: consciousness
This Sudden Compulsion
I will sit alone sometimes with the lights turned off; solitarily thinking about my life in the darkness. I will suddenly have a compulsion from within. This sudden compulsion makes me stand upright; wanting to throw myself out into the world. This is when I remember and acknowledge to myself; I have nowhere to go. When I talk to, or approach people is public, a look of dread and fear befalls upon their face; thinking I am death, and I have come to take them away with me. The fear these people display is certainly uncalled for. I am not there to kill them where they stand, as I will more than likely wait until there is no one else around; making sure there are no eye witnesses. Not really. I am actually quite harmless most of the time. But to these people, I do not seem to be. They do not know I am talking to them for some sort of human contact. This contact is not due to loneliness, or attention seeking, on the contrary; I do not need people in my life, and I have never experienced loneliness. I approach these people as a form of practice. By doing so, I do not get rusty when I do need to talk to someone when it is necessary. When I am standing there with the lights off, and this compulsion is running hurriedly through me; I think about going out and rummaging through this disgusting dying world. Once I run through all of my previous experiences of going out into the world; I usually arrive at the same conclusion I have always arrived at: it is all a waste of my precious time. Once I remember my previous outings into society, this is when I sit back down. I will sit there quietly; closing my eyes, thinking and fantasizing about a world which does not reject me, in the way I have come to reject it.
The Inner Voices are Guiding
Words of fire, give way to a spirit aflame. There is majesty and power, within one’s honed name. A tree will grow, rooted within your soul. Its leaves will sew a desire, longing for control. As you lay numb, pinned to the Earth. You will live numb, in order to see your self-worth. Grow where you are planted, within the soil of your life. Diseases will run rampant, within internal and external strife. Feasting upon the living carnage, which tried to leave you behind. The shallow gallows of wreckage, growing within your mind. The Earth shakes with movement, hollowing itself out. Hades ascends from underneath, thrashing wildly about. There is no fear, in wanting to know what exists below. All you hold dear is waiting to flee, waiting to see what will never grow. There will never be an escape, from yourself or your nature. An endeavor you can escape, but never from your inner creature. The blood will freely sing from within your veins. The hymn will freely sting, from life-long pains. There is not another life to master, you are the only master which exists. Life is simply another disaster, which will continue to persist. Make peace within yourself, and within your world. Be an individual within yourself, never joining the herd. Rise from the burnt offerings, and the ashes from within. Live and walk within the fires of your true name. Giving your new life purpose and meaning to begin. The purifying fires, cleanse the denied. The healing waters, raises the truth from within those who lied. Seeking salvation, within the flowing wings of destiny. Finding warmth and love, within natures hands of plenty. The inner voices are guiding, never hiding. The inner yearnings will free your soul, never binding you with control. The inner longings will allow you to see, never blinding you with what was never meant to be. Your inner nature will show you what you need. Never rejecting the incantations living within your seed.
The Embryo Slits its own Wrists
A partnership of nothing. Revealed idiosyncrasies allowed me to see your true nature. The liar crept. Wore your shoes, and walked within them. Sang your blues. Quilted tears forgot about your fears. Nothingness is what your psyche has been blessed with. It is all your rotted mind can maintain. A fake smile, of the pointy nose type. Dancing within your pathetic guile. Cramps strike frequently. Just enough to numb my mind. Thinking about you kills my cock. The best kind of birth control I have found to date. Your teeth are shattered from the grotesque words it has helped your tongue speak throughout your aged lifetime. Too old to not know any better. Too old to live the life you live. Too young to die within the birth you were given. A narcoleptic confrontation. You were always unconscious during your life; bleeding your uterus to death. Too many deaths to consider. A delinquent type of rebirth. Nestled within your womb. The embryo slits its own wrists. Rejecting your birth canal. Many have traveled within your canal. Always coming in. Never coming out.
A Real Memento Mori
I use this life as a form of treatment. Everything and everyone surrounding you and I is a resource. Resources are meant to be used for our healings. It is important to recognize the catalysts within these resourceful healings. A need. A longing. A begging from someone wanting you to release them from their pain. I will use you as a specific form of treatment. Just as I have used so many others. The humans enjoy being used. This is their purpose within their mundane lives. Humans are to be used in every way imaginable. They are always begging me. Wanting to be the treatment I am seeking. A resource. A restraint. This is what allows the humans to feel purposeful. Being used for something, especially a treatment. The humans love to be treated less than. If they did not love it so much, they would never tolerate it. It is a rare occasion when I use someone else for a healing. I do not consider myself a psychic vampire. I consider myself a real vampire. The kind that will compel you; emptying your body of its vital essence. It can get messy. It always gets messy. Make accommodations. You will be my resourceful healing. Just for now. Tonight. When I am around. I will be with you soon enough. Draining a new life straight out of you. Creating a new life for you and I. Draining and drowning you. From within. From underneath. I am the real kind of pain. The kind which buries itself within your thoughts; crushing you and gushing you from the inside out. A real memento mori.
Better Left Unsaid
Cry at once. I demand you to. This is what you have become accustomed with. Acting out tasks for a desired result. Look how far it has taken you through life. All the way to where you are now. Nowhere fast. I connected within you. It was not the type of connection you were looking for. You craved sympathy. I cannot offer you this type of embrace. I know you care. Just as much as a murderer cares about their victims. It was not enough time for you. Not enough tears bled from your eyes. A salvation which neglected to inform your heart. Words that chewed your tongue right off. Some things are not better left unsaid.
G.G. Kalfas 