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the redeemer and the faults... walk me to the exit; i can't breathe in here with all these disconnected faces. disperse and shatter these blockades, then divide the blame accordingly, even if the only civility i can muster comes in the form of silence. this is all just mitigation of all the things i beg to take back seconds after they're said. it's all your fault, and i couldn't be more thankful. every last shred of decency within me presents an opportunity for redemption. but everyone's just too goddamn stubborn to walk that path alone. i've seen firsthand the way i act in desperation, and secondhand the losses we try to recover from. you'll listen to me to tease tthe redeemer and the faults... by ~derelictstatic
echo on: thoughtblocks what you are, what you know, what you have. what you've lost. all the pieces are cut the same - dwindling down to the ones that only look alike. second nature, secondhand products of our environment. even if that product is vitiation. this bed has never felt so empty, and my dreams never so warm. if only ambition to find a new refuge would not be mistaken for kidnapping. all these choices terminate at the same junction. were it not for fidelity, there could never be freedom from perjury. chronos listens in and can't remember how to keep the faltering circuits from sparking and killing the contacts. we're all built to fail and falteecho on: thoughtblocks by ~derelictstatic
deadlocks and deadlines they call it routine and we call it refreshing. sing, girl. sing with every last breath you wouldn't waste on quelling trivial issues not our own. that we could only write words not destined to be remembered becomes a hopeless tragedy. like night skies without stars or a candle's melting wax. i'm seeing blood orange reflections on the highway, heated concrete mirages, and it's these wounds that breathe new life. writing anecdotes and mapping phonemes to function. tempests to tension. we can renounce our faith, even if we bear the mark. all you have to do is want it. go on and suffer a feather's touch, welcome contrition in bite-sizedeadlocks and deadlines by ~derelictstatic
the capacity none of us grow stronger while one of us descends. better to carry the bleeding than to bleed yourself, it's always understood. cut the glare by closing the door. ease sentient realization of suffering by slicing your other wrist. at least you went out with a bang, dearheart. at least you saw resolve when others ditched faith for synopses and clarity. if for nothing less than brute force. these short-term prospects as alienating as the long, these freezing contrails mapping our every step. all to give the illusion of straight lines. for once you could never call yourself your own in light of palpable control. those tertiary gesturesthe capacity by ~derelictstatic
The Dread Pirate Davi 
I will decimate you. 
Sta.sh
