I've been slacking off here, so I'm going to torture myself a little by posting a poem that I found in a notebook from High School... so, it was probably written over ten years ago.
Admittedly I've been annoyed with scooting pictures around between my network drive, laptop, image hosting sites, to the blog, so there's the delay. And I've been a bit busy with family stuff, the True Blood Ultimate Fan Experience, and I actually finished writing a short story this week. If you noticed the top right of this page there's info on the Project Pitchfork and Ayria tour, so clicky and check that out. There's a venue change in Pittsburgh, it will be at the Rex Theater, not Fate Lounge, and ages 17+ instead of 21+.
Worms
I feel you,
under my skin
my pulse within
like a worm.
Wiggling under my finger.
My thoughts,
my blades linger.
Needles to stick me,
life's cruel trickery;
All the same.
Stupid games.
Why do I care?
You’re squirming
and affirming
my existence...
down my arms.
I could make you die,
end your stupid moving.
Why do you still beat?
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