• I have been told that death is only the beginning. Though what it is the beginning of, is what most conveniently leave out.

    I have grown to wonder whether it will be my city dressed in Red that ends me, or if it

  • The story is that in 7 years, your skin is a whole new thing. Untouched. But in reality, it only takes two weeks for that hidden bottom layer to become the top layer.
    In two short weeks, my lips will be ones that

  • Doll hands frozen.
    Porcelain bones quaking.
    Rose smile cracking.
    Pale paint humanity peeling.

    “Don’t touch me, don’t drop me, don’t break me.”

    Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. All the flowers growing shaded

  • on the radio. 
    “Don’t forget me, don’t forget me. I wouldn’t leave you if you’d let me. Hmm, when you met me when you met me. You told me you were gonna get me.”

    The Dark Prince of Disasters has a smile like a

  • the radio again. 
    “Would you lie for me?
    Cross your sorry heart and hope to die for me?
    Would you pin me to a wall, 
    Would you beg or would you crawl?
    Stick a needle in your hungry eyes for me?”

    The Enigmatic Du

  • playing that song again.
    “And I’ve got my mind made up this time
    Go on and light a cigarette,
    Set a fire in my head,
    Set a fire in my head, tonight.”

    We have always been match and flame, my Knight of Brand

  • that song is on the radio. 
    “But I’ve got my mind made up this time.
    Cause there’s a menace in my head,
    Can you see his silhouette?”

    The Psychopathic Priest is a shadow of what was and has been. He is the s

  • is on the radio again.

    “Let’s cause a little trouble
    Oh you make me feel so weak,
    I bet you kiss your knuckles,
    right before they touch my cheek.”
    The Lord of Broken Bones is an eloquent man. He will never

  • is playing that song again:

    “Would you bleed for me?
    Lick it off your lips like you needed me?
    Would you sit me on a couch
    With your fingers in my mouth?
    You look so cool when you’re reading me.”

    Can you

  • Cigarettes have kissed my cupid’s lips more often than yours have thought to smile. I have a smoked soul of pollution and eyes that crumble in the ash pyre of humble endings. I breathe it all in so you don’t

  • Are not ideas meant to coexist like moon and planet. We are more like Sun and Moon, a constant revolution of haphazard glimpses caught wayside before we vanish from each other’s horizons.
    We are not words meant to

  • Darque Hyatt wrote a new post, Catalog 6 years ago

    People often complain about their worst days ever. Usually it’s something as simple as a downpour coming unexpected that drenches their pretty dress or elegant suit. Maybe something a bit more dramatic, like a