Category Archives: Introspection

Fragment 22.6


A special place for damned shadows,

Damned rain,

Damned hearts,

Damned pain,

Never ending sorrows,

Never ending names,

Never ending not agains.


Clicks ticking,

Clock chimes,



Just gathering a salty brine.

Ice cold breathing,

Hearts stopped beating with melodic rhymes.


Until the word…sometime,

Worth not much more than every other faded looking dime.

Please keep the nickel coated apprehension, trade it in for a life of living next time.


Trying to remember it.

A funeral but for the things I have to tell myself sometimes to just breathe.

A eulogy for all the things turreted towards me I thought I could help, or fix, or get back on track but never did.

A pyre lit for all the potential I see in people that they never discovered of themselves burning with the oil made of the pain that has resulted because of this.

What do people do after this?

Lost broken hope,

Every bit deep enough inside themselves just hoping one day it’s a Pandora’s box with someone else opening it thousands of years away unleashing it’s empathy back into light.

If I had hope currently, I’d believe that but it must have gone in with the rest while I wasn’t paying attention. 

So I’ll just wait here. Because I’m tired of kind of always just holding it up anyway. I probably deserve a break. 

Fragment 10.147

My story lies in the sorrowful

Screech of the violin’s mourning strings,

The vibrato of lung’s

Expressive dreams

When trilled to such

Passed history.

In the cascading twilight

Between what was

And what’s to be.


They all believe

They’re the author,

Of the epic tale

Of the sun cresting

On morning’s dewy mountain top

Never seen by man.

I’m sorry every daling

That never heeds

My warning,

Men don’t dwell at such extremes

Until they learn to see before learning to speak.

You are barely treading the surface

Of the soul’s design.
(P.s. I don’t believe it’s wise to tell someone with the same mix and revolutionary mind as Van Gogh : they don’t feel the right way. You’d be beyond wrong. I can cut my ear off for a returned devotion if I want to love like that, thank you. Apologies if you don’t like love’s give and take mentality  xoxo)


Fragment 9.681

I believe my favorite is the game you think you have,

Because you mistakenly think all women

Play the victim.

I also laughed when you accurately said you were intrigued.

I know,

I could tell,

Like don’t you know what the word means. plot craftily or underhandedly. achieve or earn by appealing to another’s curiosity, fancy, draw or capture: accomplish or force by crafty plotting or underhand machinations.

5.Obsolete. to entangle.

6.Obsolete. to trick or cheat. carry on a secret or illicit love affair.

This is real life, not a mystery novel, delusional stooge.

Didn’t I say you were a sheep in wolf’s clothing in May.

Before this wolf beat you at your own game.

Next time, pick less intelligent women.

I’d like to say it was fun for a moment being deceitful. But it wasn’t. I tend to function on love unless you attack.

There I was in a horrible state losing so much of my family.

Forgive me but where I’m from,

Not much more than 150 years ago,

a few three generations ago,

You would have been hanged for trying to use a mourning woman’s money.


Your Deconstructed Devastation Destiny

love_is_at_your_feet__pink__by_aureliens-d98hjzkHumbly I was laying my love at your feet

But you used such incredulous claws

To examine every piece

Your eyes  became black and jaded

By only what you wanted to see of me


Any good that could be

Into monstrous ghosts

You’ve already seen

Claiming your hands were made of healing

Instead of the sharp weapons


eradicate everything

Prodding every caring breath I could exhale before

I could say a thing

Instead of holding a fragile

Scared, sacred treasure

Like the heart of another

Isn’t fragility

In a fleshly



Giving you a gift

Of eternity

Since you want to shatter

My last remaining pieces

Like a scientist


On the snafued being


I’ll recover all the remains

bind them in gold ribbon

And return to a shelf

Until softer hands

Want to pick them up

From the scattered,


Desolation you created

In front of me.

Words: M(e.)

Humble offering: AurelienS




Fragment 8.468

This is what the world is like to me currently.

As in, idiocracy, the movie in front of me daily.

How does one kill a fear of their own, entire, society?

An ode to modernity-

Log in,

So you can tune out.

Scream and shout,

Like you’re all the entire world’s about.

Spread your freedom

Like hatred laced purple kool aid

Just so you can line up

For the next phone

That’s taken the place

Of where your personality used to be.

And light the night,

With screens of idioms

Wearing masks of


Just so you can ask,



You never sleep

To add another pill

To the growing pile of things

Entitled, ego boosting,

You must  collect them all.

Like people are capturable-

To fill the void created in your solitary headspace.

The real human race.

Dissipation Apparition Relinquishing


I can’t believe she disappeared.

If it had been a fading,

It would be an easy pill to take.

But the memory replays everything you say,

Or said,

Like it’s still the same moment,

With a tired face,

That replaced the young one she used to see.

One song on repeat,

Too many times to sway

Fate to darken your door today-

O any new day.

And before you ask why,

Know the tears soaked too many of your musings

To see,

To clearly discern those yesterdays.

The faded, aged, and warped glass

Makes you seem even less

Kind and earnest than you were –

Like when you were so tender in all your ways.

Akin to a second skin of another man,

She would have never even spoken to.

And now all she can see is the stranger,

Not a single piece of who you used to be.

And aren’t those drifters ever so frightening

To such an unassuming thing-

You used to know she’d always be.

Which is why she slipped,

So very quietly away,

When your eyes were jaded

And you were looking the other way.

Her lips,  sealed tight-

Because what was there left to say,

Weren’t you just an outlander,

Last she checked anyway?

Words: M(e.)

Decamped Specter: littlemewhatever

Forlorn Fabrication Fusion: Justin Vernon – A Song for a Lover of Long Ago