Jack's Twisted Kingdom
memories of lost lust
fickle things are the memories you sometimes revisit.
today as I wandered down through times past, I caught
a glimpse of kristen, and I wondered which chord I'd
twitched into a resounding ping splattering across my
void entrenched soul...
it's not often that I'm introspective, as it tends to
inflame my sense of self loathing, and lack of self
worth when I would otherwise tend to scoff at any
notion that I were anything but perfection born...
tonight however, I seem to have stumbled headlong into
the black icy depths of my rather vicious cycle of
rampant paranoia, unfettered dreams of when things were
sublime, and yet, and yet here there I lie awake looking
into the cloudy night in a retrospective haze...
I shall dine on my displeasure, revel in my self hatred
and still stand alone on the cliffs of uncertainty awaiting
the sun drenched ichor to spill across my horizon in an
empiphany of wretched glory til the dusky sky becomes like
twilight and I stand ready to breach the coils of dimly
lit palaces in paisley colored gold gilded prison bars that
seem so utterly familiar as to breed naught but bliss...