My shadow carries knives and bullet slings. And I didn’t miss it one bit.

I knew it wouldn’t be long –

But why now?

Couldn’t you just give me this moment?

 

 

YOU’RE TEARING ME UP INSIDE

YOU’RE TEARING ME UP INSIDE
YOU’RE TEARING ME UP INSIDE

YOU’RE TEARING ME UP INSIDE

YOU’RE TEARING ME UP INSIDE

 

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Eraz Her | Art by Patrick Woodroffe

Patrick WoodroffeIt’s been gone for so long now that I’m starting to think that maybe it never even existed.

 

I’m talking about my razors.

The ones I kept in the box under my bed.

The ones I took out over and over again and then placed them back, burying deeper into the folds of my notepad each time.

Except the last.

 

Tomorrow must be churning the butter from my brain spews.

Am I going mad, spinning delusions from the abuse

I put myself through?

 

Were my razors there?

Or had my parents knew…

Pure. High. Ugly. | Art by Hi

I don’t know what to love anymore.

HiLately, my love spews out clumps of shit –

little shitty globules of stuff that love whoring.

 

My love is desperate, dirty, and laced with too much rage.

 

Not once.

 

Once I wore pretty things, did silly things and said even sillier.

I was shy and had a melancholic story.


I didn’t have love, I had innocence.

Woe are those who loved me then,

I will never forget them.

The Romance of Mr Hyde | Art by Kazuki Takamatsu

Kazuki TakamatsuI guess that when it comes to life, no one has a home.

We’re funny in that little way, we,

Twisted sack of bones.

 

And the breaths of others haunt me,

For I know that I have chose,

To be alone forever,

To be that of unknown,

 

And deep inside I’m hurting,

My blood is split and cold,

I really hope that someone fucks the romance of “alone.”

Church Bells and Worm Holes | Art by Merzbow – Derek

Merzbow-Derek

Grab this flight and run forever,

Hold me in your stare, don’t ever hit me.

 

If this should get real, I’ll have them fix me,

I won’t be as cruel or shoot the devil’s hornet again.

They can rip my tongue in two and throw it in ashes, for all I care,

Cut my ear lobes so that my blood spills over both my angels…

Cure my meat in brine and tally up my time, even –

I’ll be one phone call away, instead of a mouthful.

 

Shave me of contempt; with your last breath to your first you’ll feed me,

Keep my jewels in bandages and make them please thee.