Throwing images.

Helpless apprentice.

I'm sorry that you broke me.

No real me.

I liked the illusion that you fed me. I like that you still humor me.

Dreaming.

I'm sorry that you had to run away, that I made you feel that way . . . that I couldn't wipe the sadness from those sad eyes of yours.

I still have nightmares.

Lovely lie, love is.

In praise, inverted. For what? And she rises. Caged. I know.

Why

I'm destined to sing.

You can look now.

But you won't, because you're too weak.

Hold your dreams tightly.

Shake of the fist, dangling. Insipid was the gunshot that pushed you into that other realm. The tree has been splintered and the future marred. Stop.

Cherish nothing . Faith is an illusion. Under her spell, but it wasn't a spell--I was in love with the way she made me dream.

Show, don't. Telling them what they want to hear. Stop firing shots. A bit unhinged.

Missing.

I'm sorry that you're dead.

Back when I used to believe, I'll be better when the nightmares go away.

Crumpled.

It was an illusion, but I swear I used to believe.

These self-effacing fantasies have me writing eulogies in the sand. Not sure what it is you want me to do.

The fire extinguished and now I'm coughing up ashes. Downer.

Frustration. What is it to want? What is it I stopped believing in?

Cold heart.

Trust nothing.

No thing.

No.

Negation, I'm sick of lying.

Passport.

Telemarketing dreams. No futures. Silence. Still. Remain. Relaxed.

Trouble breathing. Trouble beating.

Troubled.

He never came back.

I can't even hate you anymore.

Fine line.

Turmoil. Disassociated.

Stop getting where you want to get. Stop desiring. Learn to

Way to

emerge.

Elevation. Eating wire. He does not feel patience. He sees the writing on the wall and it upsets the image that he has delicately placed in the back of his mind.

Crumpled ashes.

Did I forget?

You want.

Demands, but he forgot the list.

Says

I'm not that man anymore. You killed him and I don't know how to bring him back. I'm trying, I tried and now I'm tired. Twist, distort, whatever you need to do--but all I can say is "I'm sorry."

Dislodged

Don't forget to die. Don't forget rebirth. The parade, that he was wrong. Or was he?

You keep hearing voices. It's o.k. so long as you don't do what they tell you to do.

Broken is

Don't look surprised. That's how they want you to look.

Bothering

Hearing becomes complicated. Cacophony. Surrender, . . . dismay.

The feast is over, the king has gone home.

Alive or buried well.

I bought these images at the store, in a fun pack. Guaranteed to numb your mind for hours.

I'm

Here's to wishing I could feel again.

I never asked you to bury yourself, but I want you to know that you've done a really sloppy job.

Hunting cannibals.

I don't trust you.

I'm sorry that I'm a collossal mind-fuck, but I can't help it--the voices keep telling me what to do.