She's the nimbus of broken gods. She yields the handle of my broken sword. She's the saving grace that made way to find escape. My duty is to lift the name of this deity. Her golden goose lays eggs of truth. I plant her stems to feel her roots. I climb her stars just to see her shoot. There's a beautiful envy in the air choking the masses. She will be my leaves when the trees turn autumn. Lead me where my demons can't follow. We unify and I hear the sound of angels as they harmonize.  It isn't simply her keys that shift me. She can see me as clearly as i can see my future with this lady. 

Dear Nora,

Since the day you were taken away I've been working to bring you back. I told you I'd freeze hell for you and I'd be damned if that wasn't what I came to do. Just remember no matter what the others say I only did those things for you. I needed money to fund my research for my breakthrough, no one cared that I needed to save you. I prayed for forgiveness of every cold corpse I left. Every theft was a closer step to feeling your warming heart. I loved you Nora and nothing has changed. Engulfed in rage I used frost to douce the flame. You're engrained into my soul if you die my fate will be the same. It's hard not to melt beneath the rain. Our town is now under a tyrant's reign. If he stands in our way again he will feel our pain. I miss our house being filled with the sound of your singing. Now my lair is filled with the sound of silence, from these so called acts of violence, but my passion runs deeper than the top layer. The mirror shows the hallow of my life. The shallow of my shadows masked by the bravado of the caped crusader. If you wake to see this letter know it my work was not in vain. But it also means the public did not care about my mission. If I'm caught the judge will through the book at me, he's already made his decision.

With all the love in the world, Victor

I burn my sorrows in preparation to burn bridges of tomorrow. The language of God written by Devils who's words do I follow? Heartbreak awaits the pessimist. Headaches awake the realist. But life is but a dream to the optimistic idealist. My heart beats burn like turns through the furnace. My home is fully furnished but I yearn for something more nurturing. There's nothing new under the sun and the earth has come full circle again. I can't shake the feeling every time I reach for the stars someone raises my ceiling. The poison in the acid made me lucid. My addiction to bad habits labeled me a nuisance. My pen is fluent in cursing in cursive. Venting, freeing, and relieving. I relive the worlds I create to escape. A release when anxiety has a hold on me. I feel it's grip tightening. Every night I reach for the vice to my right because the dark is frightening. My silver lining in a thunderstorm is the flash of lightning. The damage is staggering but knowing it never strikes twice is reassuring.

If we never see again let me farewell with my pen. If this night be my last let my ink be there to comfort you. Never doubt my love for you. As long as there is breath in me I promise I'll fight to return. My head burns from the thought of leaving you. But I find peace in reunion. Share in communion with the wine I sent. Reminisce on time spent but please don't forget. But just in case,we never meet again,...I'm the one that ate your Doritos

Help me reach our peak. Silent in the nights we hear our bodies speak. Fingertips creep every night we lay to sleep. Beauty in the form of passion. This passion, at the source, is overflowing I feel the finish coming. You wrap your legs around me and I feel you erupting. We reached our mountain tops and keep climbing. Our hips are synchronized. Our souls are unified. We rise again this time just to amplify the intensity

She is his unrequited love. She's his hallelujah, his thank you Jesus. She's the restricted fantasy his mind wanders to. He is to she what she is to he. He is her rock of Gibraltar her ground when the earth around her starts to falter. He is her unrequited love. And it's tearing them apart. 

God is great. But my god, her devils feel so good. Her evils pleasure my demons in a way only our sins can. She touched me in a way hands can't. We sip where saints can't taint the taste. We turned hell into a safe place. A hideaway from a place we had no escape. In her heat my spirit heals from the aches. Her passion repairs the breaks. I fear the Angels realizing their mistake and coming back to take her away. But while she's  mine the fire feels fine. We receive praise from even Hades for the flame we make. Hell might  freeze over if it wasn't for the love we make. 

The halls are quiet. I am frightened the presence has returned to successfully end me. This dark entity is swarming around me. I feel my enemies trying to surround me and I am drowning. Downing alcohol and pounding tylenol when I am tired of it all. I've lost sight of the finish line. I confide in the line "I am fine" so others don't see the warning signs. I feel alone and on my own. Next door with friends I still feel miles from home. Depression is ruminating. Depression is exasperating. Depression is my past and my future, and my future has no means of escaping. 

Old soul, his stare is as cold as a December night. I remember the night he became this shadow of a man. It's hard to understand what sparked this change. Rage and pain have become difficult to contain. At night the rain is even harder to maintain. Helpless, I watched his fall, I watched it all. He walked down the halls and wasn't noticed at all. The teachers didn't notice his sinking facial features. Creatures haunt, taunt, and follow him, until the demons were strong enough to swallow him. He tries to resist but the pain insists other lives would be better if he didn't exist. His family didn't see the signs. I tried to warn them but none were willing to read between the lines. I tried to cry for help. I cried for the pain he felt but when he whispered "I'm fine" no one paid me any mind. Here draws the line between I, the psyche, and he, the conscious mind. We either teeter between breaking down or breaking through. As I crack through ceilings his floor is crumbling too. 

Old soul, his stare is as cold as a December night. I remember the night he became this shadow of a man. It's hard to understand what sparked this change. Rage and pain have become difficult to contain. At night the rain is even harder to maintain. Helpless, I watched his fall, I watched it all. He walked down the halls and wasn't noticed at all. The teachers didn't notice his sinking facial features. Creatures haunt, taunt, and follow him, until the demons were strong enough to swallow him. He tries to resist but the pain insists other lives would be better if he didn't exist. His family didn't see the signs. I tried to warn them but none were willing to read between the lines. I tried to cry for help. I cried for the pain he felt but when he whispered "I'm fine" no one paid me any mind. Here draws the line between I, the psyche, and he, the conscious mind. We either teeter between breaking down or breaking through. As I crack through ceilings his floor is crumbling too. I struggle to love myself when my flesh is a threat to my health.