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.
Tag: poetry
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.
A Passionate Embrace Within the Nothingness
Nestled deeply underneath the crusted layers. Tightly woven in between the soft tissue. Covering the organism’s exoskeleton. Devouring itself from the inside out. Thoroughly maintaining equilibrium. Maintaining true authenticity. It keeps me safe at night. Warm. Protected. Secure. Hiding away from the world. Keeping my authenticity safely hidden. My secret endeavor. My secret life’s work. I am invisible. No one can find me. No one will ever be able to find me. Hiding in plain sight. I need to hide myself more often. I desperately need to protect myself away from those thoughts. All I want is to be left alone and loved at the same time. I want to hide myself away and be seen all at the same time. I am fucked up in this curious way. I will tightly bind and nestle myself into my own womb. My secret chrysalis. I will transform into what I was meant to be. Strong. The urge to KILL burdens my shoulders. If I was given the opportunity to get away with it. There would be no hesitation. NONE. This is why I hide myself away. I know I would thoroughly enjoy it. I would cum all over myself. This is why I hide myself away from the world. I enjoy the smell of necrosis. How many people do you know who could admit that? I hide myself in the deepest and darkest corners of my room. I want to shrink myself, so I can hide more efficiently. Delicately. Compartmentalized efficiency. Necrotic compartmentalized efficiency disorder. I want to be invisible to myself. I will never have to see myself ever again. Each time I look into the mirror I look different. Slightly unrecognizable. I am afraid one day a stranger will appear in front of me. I will be the stranger I see in the mirror. A pleasant surprise. A chance to meet new people. A chance to meet myself. Another part of me. The real me. A hidden part of me. Or simply another delusion contained within me. Is there a difference? I am the difference. The difference between the surface and the subterranean. All of the internal personalities I have become acquainted with during the time I have spent here. Friends for life. Best friends forever. Long lost friends. A passionate embrace within the nothingness. A varied necrotic compartmentalized deficiency disorder. I will keep me safe and protected from myself, and from this necrotic world I currently inhabit. The defiled world I seem to thrive in. I am my only hope. I hope I can count on myself. I better make myself count. This is the only hope I have for any type of mental peace. Who am I kidding? You?
Internal Consciousness
To obtain purity within one’s essence, requires the fundamental understanding of being true to who and how you are within your internal nature. The essence contained within your internal being, is an internal representation of one’s external manifestations. The essence of who and what one is, could also be considered as the quality of one’s character. There are those who within their essence, possess a high quality of character; conversely, there are others who possess a substantially low quality of character. Only those who possess a high quality of character, will achieve ascension within their internal consciousness. One’s essence, is detrimental to their internal ascension. If one lives their life within the realms of theft, dishonesty, and coercion; they will maintain a definite lowered vibrational frequency within their essence, as they will not possess the internal vibrational frequencies needed, in order to ascend within their internal consciousness. For one to possess a substantially low quality of character within their internal essence, will leave one to live a defilingly base existence. It is important to maintain one’s distance, when coming into contact with these types of lowered essence others, who exist with the external realm. Purity exists within every level of one’s internal being. Purity is the core divination within one’s internal essence, as it will focus one’s attention upon specific sights within their life. One’s internal and external paradigm, is seen through the lenses of one’s internal consciousness, and the purity of one’s internal essence.
Life is Filled with Human Waste
A physical love letter from your life; addressed to whom you have now become. A child’s hands are delicate and inquisitive. These curious qualities slowly rot away, as we carelessly enter through life’s threshold. Never again will we experience such definitive wonder, questioning, or certainty. Do you really think it is that important to experience these qualities? At certain times, yes; but these times are not sufficient enough to bring forth the inadequateness of an underlying longing for death. It is important to fulfill your nightmares, so the glares of the daylight will fade away into the obscurity, which is your wasted life. Perhaps a wasted life is not necessarily a waste. What is the defining point of not wasting one’s life? Monetary gains? Owning property? Something material and tangible? None of that external waste means anything within these pages. You should know that by now. I consider a life to be wasted, when one lives their life for another, and not for themselves. Life is filled with human waste such as this. Life is only a waste, if you use your time not following your inner guidance. Most of the others are stuck living in survival mode, never finding a way to follow their inner guidance, as many of these others do not know of its existence.
Necrotic Whispers
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.
G.G. Kalfas 