"i sold what i had to the demons at my back
in return,
they traded for my heart all those things that i lacked"

my baby told me once when crying so full of shame.
saying not evermore, at no finite point in time
could to her trembling universe be laid claim.

a head full of stone
a heart full of lead

lust.
desire.
sloth.

dread.

all those vices we must.
please, oh how can we? can we take this all,
all too serious too fucking swimmy in our brains.
wouldn't i rather gambol after a soft man across listing grass sea plains

drift amongst flotsam. flowers fragrant coloured serene.
distant. disguised from ancient beasts.
so it seemed.

but this happened in my other life. seen through others eyes.
i would. i should've. i couldn't had i tried.
to overcome. to oversee. to make slaves of my bidding.
these demons.
yet even now i find myself,
i find myself sitting.





























ae.