My mask’s grown too thin,
And my lies are creeping in...
Doesn't every poet want it to be so?
Be in league with Emily or Thoreau...
I want to feel veins beneath my skin and air...
but this shell made up of rotting flesh shall not...
An undead child has been born
In to a living world anew...
Here comes the showdown
Between you and me...
I know a girl,
who's got some luck...
Freaking sounds and weary creepers
Made me wake up from a deep sleep...
The angel burns…
Her petal-white skin...
*note* I was just reviewing this and realized the...
Watch upon this deadened mound, it hath a story...
I wrote this a long time ago when i was an avid...
Ill wait for you to scream at me...
Strawberries and cream,
thats what she is...
As purple clouds drift overhead,
Peaceful dreams of living dead...