#deadcore
you think the forest is a refuge
yet the trees twist up and away into the sky
bending away as if to aviod the touch of disease
this is not a safe place
the things darting through the underbrush
know what you did
and they are not afraid of sickness
do not unbury the buried
they are there for a reason
prayers might not save you this time
a crumbling church sits abandoned, do not go inside. you will not be the same thing when you come back out. there is nothing in there but empty space to spill devotion to a god that does not exist. those who remain there would eat away at what little of you is left until you also do not remember the beautiful tragedy of being human
do you see them marching in their rows
will they come back
or will they become just one more face
gone and forgotton
even in death
Do you trust your eyes? Something moves in the corner. When was the last time you saw something that wasn’t there? This has happened before. When was the last time you saw something that stirred an old dead feeling inside you? It didn’t used to be like this. Have you seen that before? It moves closer. When was the last time you saw movement that didn’t exist? This time won’t be the same. How much can you trust your eyes? Darkness envelops you. This hasn’t happened before. Do you really trust your eyes to comprehend the thing lurking in the shadows? The flickering light betrays your place, a head snaps up realizing they might not be alone.
and the hills swallowed you whole
i’m sorry i didn’t warn you sooner
may the fog hide you
and carry you saftely to your harbor
crawl through the window
cut open your heart
fog chasing your heels
with the wind pushing you back
a boy sits at the corner alone under the darkening sky
he offers his hands
(as if in prayer
reaching for the promise that light will come again)
he offers the skeleton of a small bird instead
(he put it together himself)
he tells you proudly
he put it together again and
he felt like a god
(the mercy and the creation of a life in his hands)
the eyes, ever watching, the heart too bloody and the heat too loud
the eyes, always watching, everything from everywhere and nowhere
the eyes, unceasing, smooth and slick is the way of the days
the eyes, now blind, forgiveness became sin
something passes by your garden
as twilight sets in
and compliments how your roses have grown so well
you thank them
you do not mention the bodies
that make the flowers grow so well
࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧
It’s like a bad trip and it doesn’t stop
࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧࿐୨୧
I feel like I’ll never find my way…
Went back to the church that was abandoned so I took a few more pictures of it
