Believe this is my blood not the ink you see on the page you read. From deep within me pulses a seething core where demons whittle bones down to flutes. What you read is what they have composed with the music of my mind and I have no choice but to transcribe their prayers and invitations for you to read and be hypnotized like a giant white koi fish swimming towards a candle blinded by her own hopes. My poetry never follows a water drop regularity but has a slit vein spurting of emotional blood that will infect with a plague any innocence you guarded for your fairy tale fancy .

There is no happy ending in my story but there is a fulfillment of pleasures and a deciphering of nonsense that exists among the living who fail to comprehend the oncoming apocalypse of death and the end of all things foretold by the mystics and the gods of hell where the words you read first sprouted from their acid seeds.

Take this Gothic romance and hide it under a steel box. Take this now and hold it in your heart and free yourself from the razor wire and mustard plaster that rises like a tide every day higher and pulling tearing and scratching at the human condition attempting to pull us apart. Do not fall to the game my sister. This is your chance to read into the hearts of the similar souls which lived before you. Read now that you may understand sooner what awaits you and how to live now in this fragile world of shadows and danger.