rage, rage against the dying of light.




what brings you here, stranger, to the boulevards of splintered hearts and bleeding brains?

was it the fact that eve tore a rib from your ribcage to create her skin? or was it the blood on the cold cemented floors which scared you? was it the steel you taste on your lips, or the stains you left on your wrists?

whatever the reason was, you’re here now – inside this iron cage, with me.

you can’t escape now. trust me, i’ve tried. you can’t run away from my web of lies, you’re stuck beneath my leather, you’re captive in my wounds.

i hope it hurts.




[ this is the rawest piece of me. this is me peeling my skin to reveal my iridescence. this is not poetry or art. you can’t hide behind pretty words to create flowered meanings. this is real. you won’t be able to stomach this. ]