I think I can paint this world for you now. From decadence and disorderly life to death and blank slates. Something I own, expressed dearfully to you as if I have always owned it. Perhaps remembered by no one in the end, but for now, maybe even just a glimpse of light from the murk and more, just to prove it can exist. even if it fades within the hour.

Sincerly,
       Rosier.

Dear Death,

A hero, posh, one that helps others with their problems through his own. How foolish. Stumble along his shadow, taking away him and all around him in turn. 


Talk to the clouds. Better will they be to you than a person. 


Cry into a Boulder better reception will it be than any. 


NOBODY CARES. why should they? They shouldn't. If they do it's Bc they need something. Love, friendship whatever it is. I don't want it. Let me be alone. Maybe when I die I will finally be alone. Please let this worm consume me the rest of the way. I do not want the mercy of living the little bit that lasts till I am dead. 


Skeletons of roses dancing among bodies of flesh, fires that eat, and numerous regrets. 


They pull the flesh with their thorns, and they drown their thorns in the blood. 


Why is it so hard to find the things I need, all there is are things that are hard to get and don't subside the need when you do have them. 


Ravens Visit on your Birthday