quote: (post)

Originally posted by intoxicatedpoet
Just to let people know I'm not dead:

Dark rains topple from dark skies, and fall upon the dark earth, which fills a dark void, crowded by dark people. Listen, can you hear the darkness turn to grey? Can you hear the grey bellow unto the skies, and fall from them, and return? Can you hear the end of the world, dying off from the poison it carries?

quote: (post)

Originally posted by intoxicatedpoet
I don’t read as much as I should, I write more than expected I put off obligations until the time of their completion is near at hand, and I waste my life with thoughts of death. Will these actions, and lack of actions, kill me or sustain me? Will traits out of the norm be the tools that cause my homicide? Or will I suicide by my hand, my will, my bone?