There was a pile of burning bodies. Too many to count. Limbs tangled like roots. Mouths frozen in their last prays. The fire didn’t crackle it hummed, like something remembering its fury. And from the smoke, he stepped, black skin blistered with old scars. Eyes that didn’t shine, eyes that absorbed light, as if every … Continue reading Ashbreath

I. I was born beneath the illusion of matter, raised in the narcotic glow of "Purpose". Fed on Myths of meaning, on lies with teeth and wings. On Hope dressed in rotting flesh. But I have puked the lie I have scrapped the smile off my face and found nothing beneath. II. There's no higher … Continue reading The Best Version of Me