My Home Ghost

This is my home. Winds howling though the wood, it chills me to the bone. This is my home. Air stale and decrepit. This is my home. Laundry piled up at my door and leaving me wringing my hands. This is my home. Ghost of memories past living inside me. This is my home. I live here.

Something Old and Something Sorry

Your infamy was nothing short of the state of sense and the sense of state. The grotesque beings which you scoff upon are the very ones you are; with your talk of space and ideology you've become nothing but a prototypical being, with all your meaningless nonconforming, and repetitive arguments about nothing.
You said it. You mean it. You want it. You've got it.

(I don't ever want to lay eyes on you again.)

The Hunt

I had a dream. A dream that’s happened before. In the night it happens, over the patio, up the stairs, and through the hallways. Third door from the dead end hallway on the left. Dark red/purplish oak door with a brass handle and I always open it. It leads into a large dark lit room, full of old chests and a dusty bed. Look outside the window and there is the sea, the night, the day and the sandy beach. 

I don’t want to leave this room. I love this room. I don’t want to go but once the recognition hits then all dreams are lost. I try to cling onto lucidity but it slips away.

My eyes are open and I’m not dreaming anymore. Instead I’m wishing for sleep again, only so I'd get back to that scene because it’s connected to a deep river of ink. It’s a missing piece to a memory I strive to capture. A searing unforgotten movie of the white house, a round wooden room featured in the museum, all of it enduring the maze of hallways perforated with frosted windows. Doors that led into empty dark rooms where chains were strewn about, those chains that held no one and left onlookers very confused.  

So nix the afterthoughts and scram old belly-achers. I’m in this job alone and I don’t want any comrades, square? This deal's cold so drop what you know if the knowings worth the drop and hide it. A body’s bed is curious: light the sheets and leave.

You didn’t hear this, but I had a dream and I’m hunting that mother down.

Teaser

It is fire that spills forth from these lips.
It is embers that pulse through these veins.
My blood is oil; black and slick; my mind is the match that burns the wick.


........

Chi dora fine al gran dolore?
L'Ore

"Who will put an end to this great sadness?"
"The hours passing."

"Werewolf" by Cocorosie

In a dream I was a werewolf
My soul was filled with crystal light
Lavender ribbons of rain sang
Ridding my heart of mortal fright

Broken sundown fatherless showdown
Gun hip swollen lip bottle sip yeah I suck dick
Loose grip on gravity falls sky blinding crumbling walls
River sweep away my memories of
Children's things a young mother's love
Before the yearning song of flesh on flesh
Young hearts burst open wounds bleed fresh
A young brother skinny and tall my older walks
Oceanward and somber, slumber sleeping
Flowers in the water, but I'm just his daughter
Walking down an icy grave leading to my
Schizophrenic father. Weeping willow won't you wallow louder
Searching for my father's power

I'ma shake you off though
Get up on that horse and
Ride into the sunset
Look back with no remorse

He's a black magic wielder some say a witch
Wielded darkness when he was wilein on his mom's
And born child and he was the bastard that broke
Up the marriage evil doer doing evil from a baby carriage
And he was born with the same blue eyes
Crystal ships dripping with ice, diamonds coruscate
In the night fireworks electric bright
And now he's gots his own two sons
Tries to hide his tears in a world of fun
But loveless bedrooms filled with doom
Bring silent heartache July to June
Swoon over new young hot flame
Mourn the memories later
Laugh now alligator
Laugh now alligator

Oh in a dream
My love came to me
And made me swear
That I'd keep what's sacred to me
And if I get the choice
To fill in his name
I'll pray my way through the rain
Singing, Oh happy day

I don't mean to close the door
But for the record my heart is sore
You blew through me like bullet holes
Left stains on my sheets and stains on my soul
You left me broke down begging for change
Had to catch a ride with a man who's deranged
He had your hands and my father's face
Another Western vampire different time same place
I has dreams that brings me sadness
Rain much deeper than a river
Sorrow flow through me
Tiny waves of shivers
Corny movies make me reminisce
They break me down easy on this generic love shit
First kiss frog and princess

The Color Green

I dreamed I loved a giant. I could not see his face. I only saw his eyes. They were large and brown and tired. I couldn't even fit my arms around his foot, covered in expensive loafers despite such a gargantuan size. He smelled like a burning match and when he sighed his breath traced invisible fingers through my hair like a strong gale of wind. He would do that a lot, sigh I mean. He sighed at my childish jokes; sighed at my attempts to speak with him, trying out different tongues and foreign words; sighed at my smiles, wide and assuming so much about him that I couldn't understand as I was; sighed when I tried to see his face and climb his limbs.

"I love you," I told him.

He gushed air, "Sigh."

I tried to throw my arms around him but they would not fit. I heard a cry from behind me and I turned to see what it was. Nothing met my eyes and upon turning back to my giant love... I saw that he was just a tree. I was in love with a tree. A tree.

How hopeless. At least I knew he couldn't run away.

"I call last night an epic fail or success depending on how catholic I am feeling."

http://textsfromlastnight.com/
Now THAT is something remarkable.