Buildings are Shells

God gave me walls, But not the bricks. God gave me rest, But not the bed I fuck in. God gave me eyes, But not the way I see. Thank thee Only minusculey. I want to get me home To a place that I have built. Because giving it up would mean it’s mine —… Continue reading Buildings are Shells

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The Bastard of Helena

Om... "Transire suum pectus mundoque potiri" Awake. Dance in cold rain. Awake. The jewel has wavered again. Terminology is not definition. Myth is not memory. Our Mona Lisa is a scream with Artuad hung slyly, lips pursed for romance. Do you know the messenger? God is the mind, The dying rose, The son and the… Continue reading The Bastard of Helena