Burn your bridges,
Raze them quick,
Rush to your solitude,
And hasten your folly,
Soon you will see the melancholy
No trust will be left 
just the lust for what was.

And there is the wall that crawls though the mind leaving nothing left to hide. I have my problems my things to hide. But they become less apparent as I sip the poison that takes hold making it hard to see a path with the future to secure an end that I see fit. To be honest I miss you. I miss that feeling. That you left to me through the day. It’s those simple little nothings that Helped me through the day. But the external pressure is greater then most favor of those you see most frequently. Here is to those I see at night. In the dreams we fear to fright.

The Angel of Death

The Angel of Death

I’m taking it slow
Feeding my flame
Shuffling the cards of your game
And just in time
In the right place
Suddenly I will play my ace
Just a girl made out of fire.

Just a girl made out of fire.

Some days I feel I need this sign.

Some days I feel I need this sign.