My Looking Glass

I made a looking glass so that I could see a future with you.

It swore that everything it told me was the truth.

I waited for you.

I waited for you..

My looking glass, it told me that love would find a way.

I told my looking glass, there has to be some other way.

I waited so long.

I waited so long for you..

And now my looking glass, it says you’ve moved on,

And I can’t, figure out, just what the fuck has gone wrong!

Waiting for you!

Crying for you!

Dying for you!

I became this monster just so you could see what you had done to me! All that waiting, praying, crying, dying and just what the fuck else was I supposed to do?

You lying whore!

So I take that lying piece of glass and shatter it on the floor!

You control me no more!

And even if I never love again I’ll never let another in to burn me within!

I’m done with this shit!

No more lying!

No more crying!

No more dying!

I pick up a shard and carve a name into my heart so I know who to blame!

I bleed you out of me!

I bleed you so that you see,

Just what the fuck you did to me!

When You Love A Prostitute

We slept in each other’s arms,
I promised I’d do you no harm,
The snow fell all around us,
As we searched for the poison that consumed us.

Oh, can you feel it now?
Oh, can you feel me now?

You tell me I’m going to far with it,
With a hollow pen between your lips,
This needle tells me what to do,
This needle tells me I still need you.

We drink from the fountain and fill our souls!
This poison so pure,
it makes us numb!
Don’t tell me it’s too much,
You just need more!
Fall asleep in my arms!
You’re still my whore!

I look in your eyes as they slowly close,
You hold my hand and you pull me close,
I see angels and demons in you,
I see them when your skin turns blue,
Won’t you follow me?

We drink from the fountain and fall asleep!
Fall asleep entwined in each other so deep,
I love you so much goddamn it!
I’ll kill us both and end it all!
I’ll kill us both just to hold you forever!

Weird Shit

I wanna talk about some weird shit. For the longest time I’ve put off talking about my “beliefs”, tenuous and fluid as they are, and I would like to put an end to that. First off, I need to preface this no doubt rambling and incoherent dive into my assorted theories and just vague thoughts on “things”, with a a confession as to WHY I was restricting having any commentary or discussion of my beliefs. For the last few years I have considered myself more or less left leaning. A “leftist” for lack of a better word. There’s a primary reason for this, among others, and that reason is that I do see a certain fundamentalist foothold in our governmental and major religious institutions. The leftist element in our country does more or less seem to be taking steps against this ingrained fundamental poison that polices our thoughts and writes our laws. These fundie forces are desperately trying to maintain a foothold that they have held for many many years. A foothold that is in fact slipping and they want SO BADLY to continue telling us what we can and can’t think, what we can and can’t believe, who we can and can’t fuck, what genders we are and what genders we aren’t, what we can and can’t do with our bodies, what we can and can’t PUT INTO OUR BODIES, and generally just being over controlling cunts. The leftists are resisting them. In activism, in idealism, in the streets, and in their homes. There IS a resistance and I do still consider myself a leftist although I have all but ceased political dialogue on social media as a means of maintaining my sanity in my sobriety. I just don’t have the energy for it without crack, meth, and heroin. I am leaving the idea warfare to minds better suited to it. Besides, deeply held beliefs and ideologies are rarely changed over social media arguments. My energy is better used telling my story of being a transgender addict and sharing my perspectives in hopes that they may help complement the perspectives of others or at least benefit them in some way. So I come to my desire to share a little more of my beliefs with the world…and I come to a problem I have noticed with some of my leftist allies. There are certain voices in the left who vehemently oppose any kind of spiritual or “superstitious” dialogue and they also have a deep dislike for any mention of aliens or spirits, angels and demons and the like. Aliens? Magick? Angels? Demons? These are some of my favorite things! Aliens in particular. Such a fun topic! And yet I started to feel something close to shame at my beliefs when I started wanting to join leftist ranks and fight back against the powers that want to rule over us. So I somewhat regretfully closed that part out of my life and focused on what I told myself were far more important problems. Trans rights, women’s rights, police brutality and institutionalized racism, that of which I had to painfully come to terms with the fact that I benefited from. And let me be clear. These are all INCREDIBLY important problems that need solutions and I’ll be the first to admit, I don’t have any, and as I’ve said, I’ve taken myself out of the social media war of ideas. I have to leave the fighting to more stable minds that are better suited and who have done the thorough research required to actually argue these points of view and possibly change some minds and do some good.I must admit I am bored with the mundane world. It is depressing and frustrating and so I am seeking comfort in the things I had told myself I shouldn’t waste my time on anymore..and to be perfectly frank I’m tired of pretending I don’t think about these things or have my beliefs just to satisfy an uppity element of the left that is doing the EXACT same thing the forces they are fighting are doing. Telling people what they are and are not allowed to believe. So I’m not going to pretend anymore. I have things I want to talk about and look, as I’ve said many times, I do not have ANY answers. My ideas and beliefs are just that…ideas. Theories. Things I think about. I am not a guru. I hold no enlightenment whatsoever and in fact I am starting to think the idea of enlightenment is bunk. So in that spirit, IF I EVER start talking like I have found some sacred key or am offering any answers to ANYTHING, please pop me in the mouth and say, “Stop that, Minzie. You’re being a fuck. Stop being a fuck.” Now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t have people whose knowledge and vibe you dig. I have always been open about my love for Crowley. I even dig Jesus. Love each other, don’t be a cunt..I’m all for that shit. Just don’t let these people become deities in your mind. The message is what’s important, and more importantly, what the message means to you. You shouldn’t have anything between you and…IT. God, The Universe, Deity, whatever you wanna call it. You should have a direct line. Fuck a church, fuck a preacher, fuck a temple. FIND YOUR OWN WAY. Now, I’m not saying a temple setting is a bad thing. It’s a great way to meet like minded people and build connections and if you dig ritual magick, fuck yea, find a good temple or coven or whatever tickles your fancy. Just don’t let them tell you they’re the only way. That they have the “key” or whatever. That’s bad juju. That’s people trying to lead you down THEIR path. Not YOUR path. Always use your own radar. Anyways, I said I wanna talk about some weird shit at the start of this thing and y’all already know I dig magick and juju and personal voodoo and all that shit. I wanna get into the shit I’ve really been weary about talking about around the idea enforcers. I don’t know if y’all have ever peeped the name of my blog but it is RNZGR. RNZGR stands for Rogue Nations of the Zeta Gray Reticuli. Back in the day I used to be really into aliens and UFOs and recently that interest has been piqued again which is kinda what led to me wanting to write this out. It’s really nostalgic for me to get back into shit that I really haven’t delved into since around a little after high school. It’s quite possible I could tell you more about UFO and alien lore than I could tell you about magick. So, anyways, Rogue Nation of the Zeta Gray Reticuli…Zeta Reticuli is a binary star system and, allegedly, where the infamous Gray aliens, or Zeta Reticulans, are from. In high school I was really into the 2012 thing, as I’ve mentioned before, and I developed some interesting theories from my meth induced internet “research” in computer class and at home. One of these theories was that the Reticulan Grays, generally held to be the “bad guys” by some of the 2012 “channelers” I was following at the time, in fact had rogue factions that were not trying to enslave humanity in service to the Reptilians (Another alien race. Basically where the Satan Serpent myth in the Bible comes from) but were actually trying to help us. And thus my Facebook conspiracy group, Rogue Nations of the Zeta Gray Reticuli, was born, and later that is where I got the name for my blog. Anyways, obviously, 2012 came and went without so much as a cosmic fart and I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a little bit disillusioning for me, especially considering that at that point my addiction had evolved into a much more horrible monster that mixed opiates, benzodiazepines, and crack cocaine, with my methamphetamine addiction. I remember spending December 21st, 2012 in my friends backyard high on Methadone, Vicodin, Xanax, and Crack waiting for…something, anything.Nothing ever came and so some beliefs that had been a very central part of my existence for years were shaken irreconcilably…but I never really stopped believing in aliens. No, my belief in aliens came YEARS before I was in high school. When I was just a tiny tot I remember making “Classified” files for my Area 51 research in my grandma’s office that she used to run my grandfathers landscaping company. I would use her computer to research my favorite thing, Area 51, and then print out my findings and put them in the little manila folders and label them “Classified.” I was doing this around the time I was starting to cross dress and show my first signs of being transgender. So I guess you could say my beliefs in aliens are as ingrained in my psyche as my trans tendencies. So where am I going with all of this? Well, I don’t really know (I told you this would be somewhat rambling and incoherent..) but like I said, I do have some theories and ideas. “Beliefs” of sorts. I won’t go into too much detail because I don’t want to be thought of as COMPLETELY insane but I do want to give you all some insight. I’d also like to illustrate for certain leftist allies that I can have these beliefs and still be a completely rational human being who stays hydrated, takes my medicine, and takes vaccines when we need to beef ourselves up from certain illnesses. I’m not a complete loon. I just…have some looney ideas. So…I’ve basically grown out of the idea that we live in a duality situation. I don’t think there are cosmic forces of “good” and “evil” pitted against one another with the very souls of mankind at stake. That’s not to say that I don’t believe there are bad people, or even bad things, that do fucked up shit but I don’t think it’s some all consuming “evil” that guides these actions. I think it’s more likely that these people and things behave the way they do simply because they haven’t grown. Kinda like when I was still doing really bad things in my addiction. Not because I was “evil” but because I was drug dependent and hadn’t grown to a point in my mental and emotional development where I was seriously considering the effects my actions had on other people or how I was harming them. It just wasn’t on my radar. I think the same could be said for most people who do bad, and even some “entities” that are percieved as negative. They’re not “evil.” They just haven’t grown. Some never do just like some people never grow. As above, so below. I have come to a point where I think Life, The Universe, and Everything is just one big experiement. To what end? I have no idea. But I think that’s why humans are so inquisitive and always looking to the sky and trying to understand it all…and why aliens are always poking and prodding us in their ships. The Angels and Demons play their own games, along with the Gods and Goddesses, and to me it all just seems very much like…I don’t know, things trying to understand other things, playing games with each other, trying to understand each other…or maybe something larger and even more incomprehensible trying to understand itself. Maybe we’re all just different shades of God trying to coalesce and become something even bigger…or maybe just understand itself. This is where it all falls apart and the pieces refuse to come together for me so I guess this is a good place for me to end it. I hope maybe you got something out of it or were at the very least somewhat entertained. I’m sure a lot of this was rather silly to many of you. Hell, it’s silly to me…but it’s also very fun for me to consider these things and see what kind of rabbit trails I go down in my mind. Maybe that’s all it is. Just mental masturbation. Anyways, lots of love to y’all. Find your Peace wherever you may.

Alien

I’m trans. I have always been trans. I started wearing women’s clothes at a very early age but I didn’t know what I was experiencing until my early twenties. I met a trans woman named Paula on a website and she took me to a social in Houston and I met other people like me for the first time. I was ecstatic to know that there were other people like me. I had assumed I was some kind of pervert all of my life because my family was Baptist and that was all I knew. At twenty two years old I felt so relieved when I saw that I wasn’t just a freak. At this point I was already seven years into an addiction to meth, pills, and other stimulants, and I was about three years into what would become my full time love affair with heroin and other opiates. I was on the needle at just seventeen years old and even at the point of my introduction to Paula and the social in Houston my addiction still had so much further to sink. After the realization that I was trans I experienced some growing pains in my newfound journey. At first, I felt I was a “woman” but as years passed and I learned more about myself I came to terms with the fact that I did indeed have many masculine traits that I could not ignore, in my mind as well as my body, so I started to identify as Gender Fluid or Non Binary. Now, after years of self reflection and personal growth, on top of years of drug addiction and so much pain and misery that it’s a miracle I’m alive, I still identify as an Enbie. I don’t really worry about my pronouns. Some people call me “he”. Others call me “she.” I’m even okay with “it.” I’m not a gender. I just am, and I am what I am. As long as you’re being nice I don’t care what you call me. I find that when I spend too much time trying to define myself I get caught up in trivial shit and just end up confusing myself or getting pissed off about stuff that in the grand scheme of things doesn’t really matter. I have a lot of respect and admiration for the entire transgender community. I see so many beautiful souls and so much strength and I yearn to be a part of it…but I don’t feel like I really am in all truthfulness. It’s not for lack of trying. I try to make friends. I try to put myself out there. I try to be an advocate..but at the end of the day I feel like an alien. It hurts. It makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong. I have made some trans friends, and I love them dearly, but they are exceptions and not the rule. I wish I was part of my family and I don’t know what to do..
I have a VERY deep connection with other addicts. Druggies are my people. We understand each other. I vibe with them. They vibe with me. Even when we are fucking each other over for dope, the guy whose stash you pinched the day before might be helping you pull a check scam or steal someone else’s stash the next day. And addicts in recovery have a bond that is nearly unshakable. Maybe that’s part of the problem. Maybe I spent too much time in the dope world. I’m thirty years old and I’ve been a junkie since I was fifteen. It’s all I know. The only thing I know as much as the fact that I’m a junkie is that I am trans and I yearn so badly for my family. What do I have to do? Transition? I’m trying! I want to start HRT so badly but I have a lot of catching up to do in life and I just don’t have the resources right now. I’m barely functioning as an adult and I’m terrified that I will transition so late that I won’t really be able to enjoy my life in my true skin. I’m trying so hard..maybe I’m just an alien though..maybe I should just get comfortable with the freaks and fiends.

Disclaimer

Before you take anything I say seriously you should know that my whole intro to alternative points of view was my belief that aliens were going to show up 2012 and suck us all up into massive starships while the Earth shook itself apart and the elite seeked shelter in bunkers many miles below the surface. I even printed out pamphlets from some book series that came out in the 80s from supposed “channelers” who had a direct line to the aliens masterminding the rapture that told people to seek out beams of light. I talked about it endlessly among my circle of friends. I was also injecting supernatural amounts of crystal methamphetamine and masturbating for up to twelve hours at a time (Though that record has since been beaten several years ago by an eighteen hour stretch. God bless smart phones.)

So it’s entirely possible that I am dead wrong about every fucking thing. You should use your own best judgement.

Kink?

So my heroin addiction pretty much robbed me of any sexual libido whatsoever. I literally gave no fucks about sex. Heroin feels so much fucking better anyways and you don’t need another person involved to feel it. Well, when I got on methadone I was pretty much ready to say goodbye to my sex drive all over again because methadone is just pharmaceutical grade heroin but uh..it came back. With a vengeance. I’m busting nuts like a squirrel, logging into my fetlife and, yo, I’ve had a bunch of people express interest in me on that fucking black voodoo magick of a website since I started my profile back up. Sooooo much fucking better than Facebook dating. People actually think I’m attractive and want to meet up! I’m not used to that shit! I’m used to being a drugged out walking bag of dirty needles and despair! I have a whole new world to explore because I really don’t even know what I’m into besides drugs. Sex has never been a priority for me. I shot up meth before I ever lost my virginity and got into smack shortly after. This is just me being real. Drugs feel way fucking better. I’d rather be high than laid any day. I DO NOT FUCKING LIKE THE IDEA OF MAKING MYSELF VULNERABLE TO ANOTHER HUMAN BEING IN THAT WAY. AT ALL. For a long time I thought of being subject to your own desire and that of another human as a weakness. I’ve had my heart broken a couple of times and that was enough to turn me off of that shit all together. Drugs don’t break your heart. Drugs are honest. Drugs are consistent. People are not. So I’m very weary about this shit. Masturbation is one thing. I’m entering what I view as very dangerous territory if I follow up on this shit so I kind of don’t know how to go about it. Part of my problem is once I have a connection with someone the tendency is to fall into emotions and get carried away. Fall in “love.” That is just one of many pathetic weak scum fuck tendencies that go along with this body and mind. I fucking hate it. I wish I could kill it. It makes me a slave.

Yea, heroin is safer.

Monolith Of Nothing

Some atheists. SOME, not all because I know some of you and you’re fine people, but some who are on their own personal crusades to tell people what they can and can’t believe, literally cream in their panties over the idea that absolutely nothing happens when you die and you just rot and it all goes black. They fucking love saying that shit! “You just go in the ground and become food for worms! Nothing happens and you’re a fool for hoping that anything will!” Look, I get it. The idea that we have to die is a terrifying prospect. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about my mortality. It scares the shit out of me and I’m not afraid to admit it. I’m fairly certain it scares the shit out of you too. Yes, even you, hiding behind the monolith of nothing. But then I think…something is driving this machine. Something tells me that “Hey, it’s time to pull my dick out and bust a nut because I want to experience that release. Hey, I’m fucking hungry, yo. Eat.” This meat machine is being piloted. So then they say, “Well, that’s just your mind telling your body to do those things. Chalk it up to instinct and programming.” Who, or what, is doing the programming? Every computer has an admin. Every program has a programmer telling it what to do. Look, I don’t have any answers. I am not that smart. I basically feel my way through life and I feel there’s more to all of this, things that we simply don’t or won’t or can’t see. I don’t know what to call it. Maybe energy? Energy is neither created nor destroyed, right? So maybe we just transfer to something else when the switch is flipped to the off position. Who knows what the fuck that even means? I don’t think it’s a heaven or hell scenario because I don’t think the powers that be are just arbitrarily handing out passes and fails in regards to human experience nor do I think they care about who does or doesn’t stroke their ego with prayers and reverence. Those are all very base human desires. I think “it” is beyond all that. So back to the militant atheists. You tell me I am a fool for even thinking about these sorts of things. That I am wasting my time. That I believe in fairytales. Let me ask you, why do you even care? What difference does it make to you? You are living your truth and hell, you’re probably right. So why does it bother you so much to see another finding comfort in something else? Why are you so quick to tell somebody that they are merely worm food? Just a random compilation making up that which we call life and nothing more. To put it crassly, why are you such a fucking daisy cutter, man? Find comfort in the impending embrace of oblivion that will soon smother your existence like the flame of a candle. I will find my comfort elsewhere. 🙂

The Next Chapter

I am currently in the process of trying to reinvent myself. It is a confusing and daunting process. I have been a junkie for so long that it’s all I know how to be. I don’t know how to date or deal with the government and taxes, etc. I’m barely functioning as an adult. Now, if you need someone to lie, cheat, scam, or steal, then I’m your bitch. That kind of shit is almost second nature to me. The rest of this shit? I’ve got nothing. I don’t even know WHAT I’m trying to build myself into or create. A writer? A musician? An occultist? Fuck knows. Chances are I will never get famous which, in all honesty, is a fantasy of mine. I’ve always fantasized myself as a bit of a rock star. I’ve certainly lived like one with all the heroin and crack and the path of destruction I have left in my wake as I’ve careened aimlessly through this life. In spite of all of that depravity and the fact that I am a total degenerate, or at least I can be, there are some positives. My lifestyle has taught me little things about myself throughout the years. One of my idols once said something along the lines of this in regards to addiction: that every time he relapsed on drugs he learned something new about himself each time, so it wasn’t all a complete waste. That has more or less been the case for me. Sure, sometimes I had to relearn something I had already taught myself but maybe I just needed to reinforce those lessons more so than others. Sometimes those lessons were almost unbearably painful but maybe that pain was necessary for me to grow. The addiction may have been my cocoon where I continuously broke myself down and put myself together up to this point where, ideally, I will finally become who I was truly meant to be. Is that the case? At this point I honestly don’t know. Maybe it’s still too early to tell. To be quite honest I am not currently over my addiction yet. I am on methadone to manage severe opioid use disorder. That’s not even taking into account my addiction to other drugs like crack, meth, and pills. I was diagnosed fairly early on, at the age of 19, as a poly drug addict. That basically means I will take virtually anything you put in front of me and I have lived up to that diagnosis for fifteen years and counting. Now, my love for heroin far overshadowed my addiction to other drugs. The sad truth of the matter is I will probably never love somebody in this world as much as I love heroin. It is my one obsession and object of devotion. I think about it all the time. I miss it terribly. I miss it even though it very nearly ruined my life. I miss it even though it almost took my life entirely. I even miss the dope sickness and all the lying and fucking people over I had to do to maintain my habit. I miss the lifestyle. All the homelessness and drug dealers and friends who weren’t really friends? Yep, I miss all that too. I have tried to quit so many times. I’ve been in rehab nine times and relapsed more times than I can count and so far the only thing that has really worked is methadone. I have been off of heroin for over a year, the first half of which I was on suboxone before deciding to switch to methadone because the subs were no longer working for me. The methadone works. I wouldn’t say it gets me “high” anymore but there is at least enough of a taste of that warm opioid feeling to keep my mind from obsessing over heroin too much. As a result I am able to work a job, pay my bills, and live in relative comfort. Yes, I am absolutely dependent on methadone, but it has given me the freedom and ability to escape from the dark world I had built for myself and have a chance at a real life. It is a necessary evil. My addiction has reached a level where I need to fight fire with fire. I don’t know if I will ever reach a point where don’t need it. It certainly won’t be in the immediate future and that’s fine by me. I’ve made so much progress and I have an opportunity to start something new. I call that recovery. Some people think it isn’t but fuck those people. I’m alive. I’m still fighting. After the life I’ve lived I’ll take any victory, large or small, that I can get. So now I have this chance at a new life. What am I to do? Well, I don’t really know. I know I enjoy writing, playing my guitar, and writing music, but are these skills that I can turn into something lucrative? Chances are probably not but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Of course I would love to get paid for my skills but we all know that not everybody reaches that point in life, and in fact, MOST people never do. Writing and creating music are my passions regardless of how materially successful I am in those endeavors. All that really matters is that I keep creating and putting myself out there. Those who are meant to see what I manifest will, and hopefully, my work will either help or entertain them in some form or fashion, big or small.

Another way I have grown is my spiritual mindset. I used to be incredibly angry at nearly all forms of religion. In fact, there was a time I fancied myself an atheist of sorts even though still felt anger and animosity towards a God I supposedly didn’t believe in. Quite the irony, eh? That all changed when I developed a fascination with the occult, and in particular, the philosophy of Thelema and the works of Aleister Crowley. “Do What Thou Wilt. Love is the Law, Love Under Will.” That was something that I could vibe with. The idea that we alone were responsible for discovering or manifesting our own destiny was something that really spoke to me. Through Thelema and the works of Crowley and various other occultists my perspective of God changed entirely. God was no longer the vengeful bully of the major organized religions of Earth. My relationship with The Creator became something else. Something more personal and incomprehensible to the limits of our human minds. I realized that all interpretations of God by religion and their assorted texts were human interpretations and not the direct word of God itself. I realized that a relationship with God was meant to be intimate and unique and that you don’t need a priest or a church or a book between you and it. God has many faces for each and every one of us and we all have our own angels and demons. Those rigid sets of rules and dogma laid out by the world’s major religions were invented by humans and put into place by those who wish to control and subjugate the rest of humanity. They are the false gods that we have created through our tendency to categorize and bring order to this chaotic world. There may be some truth in them as there is truth in everything but none of them have the complete picture. We must discover the picture for ourselves and piece it together with our own tools and methods. I am no longer repulsed by the idea of God. I no longer hate it. Now that I have made that peace with myself and with God I can see the magick in and of this world. This in turn contributes to my growth and nurtures my soul, allowing me to further expand my creativity, better navigate this chaotic world, and become who I was meant to be. I am on the road to discovering my destiny and writing the next chapter of my life. The future will be what I make of it. There is potential and possibility. I need only to put in the work and manifest what I Will. I choose not to be afraid. I choose to live. I choose to create. I choose to accept experiences as they come, both positive and negative. I choose to be a warrior. I choose to move forward. I Will it. So mote it be.

I do not know what the future holds for me. I do not know what part I am to play in the story of this world. I do not even really know who or what I am at this point but I refuse to let that hinder me anymore. I refuse to fear the unknown. I refuse to be a slave. I will continue to write this story of growth and evolution. This next chapter will tell a tale of discovery and realization. I am breaking the shackles. I am freeing myself. I am no longer a slave.

Black Tar and Concubines

She misses looking in the mirror and seeing herself decay a little more with each passing day. She misses walking along the edge of the abyss. She misses those lonely snowy nights. She misses the still chaos. She misses having a purpose. She misses the hunger. She misses the friends and more importantly the enemies. She misses not knowing or understanding. She misses the waking sleep. She misses walking among the dead. She misses the emptiness. She misses the bleeding sores. She misses the pain. She misses living only to feed. She misses being alone in a crowded room. She misses having a God to curse. She misses meeting you for the very first time. She misses holding you when there was nothing else. She misses hating you when there was nobody else. She misses you leaving and coming back again. She misses waiting in the cold for you to fuck for money. She misses hiding in motel rooms and digging through carpet for salvation and a reason to live. She misses falling asleep next to you. She misses running from phantoms with you. She misses driving through the endless night with you. She misses lying to you. She misses watching you breathe in the fumes. She misses fighting with you over crumbs. She misses waiting for you to never come back. She misses wishing she was dead. She misses trying to sleep forever. She misses the other lost souls wandering aimlessly through perpetual night. She misses an endless supply. She misses fucking over anybody who got in the way of her need to feed the demon inside of her. She misses the chase. She misses digging deeper and deeper searching for solace and some peace of mind. She misses the sickness pushing her deeper and deeper towards the inevitable. She misses having a reason to fight. She misses them smiling as they watched her sink further and further. She misses waiting for the end. She misses being beautiful underneath the stars when they shined just right. She misses hoping there was something more to live for. She misses wishing it was all okay. She misses crying at night while the fiends all slept. She misses putting on a brave face when it was time to wake up and fight again. She misses pleading for something good inside of her to show itself. She misses those fleeting moments of bliss when the demon was fed and she’d silence the noise inside her head. She misses drifting off into the ether. She misses the warmth spreading throughout from deep within. She misses it piercing through her skin. She misses wallowing in piss and shit and sin. She misses not recognizing her reflection. She misses yearning for connection and blaspheming perfection. She misses the scent of her infection. She misses her impotent perversion and self induced revulsion. She misses shaking in convulsion after making the incision. She misses constant indecision and a life made up of fiction. She misses the the peace of her affliction. She misses the dirty needles and the shady people. She misses lying, stealing, pleading, seething, shaking, hurting, yearning, crying, denying, crucifying, sacrificing, romanticizing, epitomizing and self actualizing a soul that’s dying, no longer flying! She misses the thugs and gutter scum and not being able to cum because she’s so fucking numb! She misses playing dumb and living underneath her own thumb! She misses the dealers, freewheelers, connivers, habitual deceivers, get rich scheme conceivers, and godless nonbelievers! She’s sorry for the way things turned out! She wishes things were different! She wishes she could turn back time or somehow press rewind to a time she wasn’t blind, when she still had good inside! She’s drowning in this rising tide of tears her eyes have cried as she’s watching waves collide and wash away her pride! Her soul has been denied and her fate she can’t decide! She’s begging! She’s pleading! She’s bleeding! She’s screaming! This world just keeps on turning while inside she’s always yearning! Burning! Hurting! She’s alone inside her cage staring down at a blank page that’ll soon be inked with rage! She remembers laying beneath the moon and stars and looking up into the crystal sky, holding hands and believing they could fly, if only they would try! She remembers feeling love beneath the stars above and the bliss of that first kiss before it all turned into piss, shadows of a life she missed! She stares into the sky with no more tears to cry and she wishes she could fly! She misses getting lost inside your eyes and a time before her lies, before she was denied! Her reflection so unclear, she can’t see through her fear and her time is drawing near!

Bliss

Those days were bliss. I look back on them fondly, debauched as they were. This was a time before the world had sunk her fangs into us. Before responsibility. Before dismay. Everything was pure. Even the heartbreaks and lies and thievery. We just wanted to have fun. We weren’t worried about death nor did we see any end in sight. We were children. We just wanted to have fun, We made mistakes. We made stupid choices. We were addicted…but it was pure. We were pure. I remember cruising through the back roads of east Texas twisted and fucked up and completely oblivious to the sobering reality that was just around the corner for us. I miss it. I miss the ignorance. I miss looking up at the stars through blurry eyes and hoping for something more. I miss being in love. I miss the chaos. It’s all gone now. There’s no more time for child’s play. The world is…cold. Cold and uncaring. There are no stars in my eyes anymore. I don’t know where I’m going. I guess in truth I never knew but at least back then it felt like I was going somewhere. Now all I see is the abyss and it fills me with terror and dread. I am afraid of the dark. I feel it all around me and I can’t help but think about my on mortality. Was it all a waste? Or did those little fleeting moments of bliss and happiness have meaning? If I could go back in time would I change anything? Or would I leave it all as it always was? I’m so afraid and so very tired. I don’t know how much fight I have left in me. I’m not that kid anymore. I don’t know who I am. I wish I could just once more lay on the grass and look up at the starry night sky with those eyes I once had. I can’t see anything with these new eyes. I no longer look up. I just crave sedation. My anesthesia. I want to forget but I’m scared I’ll forget those beautiful moments that made my life worth living. That time we laid under the stars and told each other our deepest secrets. The two of us beneath the eternal crystal. What happened to me? Why am I still here? Why did one of my dearest friends, a beautiful person, have to die while I remain here chained to myself. It should have been me. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I squandered it all. I’m sorry I gave in and made myself a slave. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. I’m sorry I turned my back on all my friends and loved ones. Now I’m alone and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know.

I feel it in my dreams. Something beneath the surface buried deep below my pain and regret. I crave bliss. I crave..