kismetsantagonist

It tastes almost dreamlike, even possibly surreal. She’s fixated on tiny movements, and melancholy melodies reflecting those painful fascinations. It’s happened before. She must be asleep. A lingering question now materialized at her side, cradling her in reassurance. Something long since hated, something she recently learned to avoid, she was putting her fears aside for this possibility, this probable dream. Present tense ruminations escape the clutches as she presses “end.” It’s too late to repair her heart; the last tiny vein of possibility is overwhelming flooded with those morbid tears he never deserved. Her ey

Can you leave conditional sadism outside? Attempting to control the patterns of escaping air, I should have warned you, It’s impossible under delicate dedication. Running into claustrophobic passion, Your disorientation collapses. Pulse with nervous energy, I feed off candied confusion. Allow the permanence of stars and skin Let their winding death spread within your emptiness The universe collects your sanity in a gaping distraction Let the gravity of logic collapse under creation’s skin Soft fibers dance within colored waves of light, And ethereal bodies sweetly collide. In the expanse of beauty, the perfection in

What can I do, To break away From my endless, crushing, conscious? Please Just let me Breathe I tried to fight Not willingly But your pain is still confining me Drowning in disillusioned evidence These scars that you carve in me This is your poisoned fable I wish you’d only see I can’t find peace When this still stalks In encompassing shadows Please Don’t call it Love It never was You proved to me Mortality While you mutilated fantasy Drowning in disillusioned evidence Scars carved in our dreams This is your poisoned fable I wish you’d only see

If only I could have been this girl Yesterday when it mattered Before tears tore through anger Yesterday I didn’t have to breathe the narcissist’s diseased air He needs to see this girl, Deviant feeding off his strength A nihilist to crush his cruel control, She’s empty in all the right ways Here and now I can taste apathy It could have been blissful in his binds, But Rather than requiem and rebirth The summer’s warmth was immersed in a quick liquid fix Whatever, today I’ll breathe passion He will lay witness to his cruel conquest I’ll hold him lustfully beneath the water And sweetly whisper &#