Fig

the dancing sunlight crept to the forest floor and gave me life to grow i clung to your proud trunk and struggled against darkness to get to the top my roots sank in and nourished myself on the love from your veins yet your love like poison tried in vain to shake off my sweet words i ignored the llianas already hanging on your beauty and tried to outshine them but your cold ways left me no choice but to strangle you now you are but an empty husk a dead remnant for happy termites to relish in my murder

menoh

I am a button pusher. I stir up trouble. It is what I do. I live in the borders between light and dark. I can write about beautiful things, and joy and love, but I find I am more creative when i write about the dark. I love to hold a mirror up to the...

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