CORNWALLMC's profile

Bad Place Rotten, erased beauty, and replaced love, and diseased walls, they bleed. Terror, I have you, and cutting touch, and acid confrontation, it bites. Prison, time stops, and wish for freedom, and wish for release, no key. Lonely, dark rooms, and those noises, and created entities, my friends. Cold, ice fingered, and the slow air, and the stillness, no warning.

In The Mirror Lately, I have had ill will, and being of that sense, have crushed the spirit. I know it is, irregular, but it is holding me, like a need. And what I see, distorted, morphed madness, is a right reality. Capture, my throat and squeeze, and tell me, no positive affirmation. Jerking into conscious, space, an empty void, of confused. I want this, beauty, so that I may smile, in the mirror.

Eclipse Slip five to butch, nod Vanessa Mae signed, turn see exotic queue of retro rejects, with slap conversation clipped with whining. Man who is wolf opens door, speaks foreign, smelling sweet fog as music pours in, watching arms flaying in neonic routine. Sea of cliched leather, denim with PVC friend, bottles filled with coloured piss drink, negoiate journey through awkward mass. Fake salutation for physical potential, eyes meet, drinking Jack as ignored in same breath, tune from forgotte...

Fishing Cove Secret path of little frequent, bordered glorious yellow flare and thorn, turning corner with majestic wall of rock, and heavenly stance look down on Fishing Cove. Slowly negotiate winding peril, watching for moment to cascade the drop, descending into this natural bounty, and walk and golden fine on Fishing Cove. Bronzed and battered with weathered fine, mixing with alternative naked youth, finding place on neutral expanse, and claim days victory on Fishing Cove. Sun rains down ...

Bed Fussing, cussing as hands guide this disaster zone. Barking still orders with medicine fragrance. The nurse places me like a mourning relative, and gaze my eyes to the dirty ceiling. Fussing, cussing as unknown journey begins through, virginal corridors and aware of presence. The nurse jokes like an old friend, and gaze my eyes to the dirty ceiling. Fussing, cussing as reports are presented, in monotone with clipped efficiency. The nurse wanders away laughing, and gaze my eyes to the dirt...