| . | Last night my dreams misunderstood me and were lost to the screams of the angels outside my window. Like sirens they beckoned and slowly milked my dreams into a salty winged terror, which let me crawl upon it's breast as it flew into my darkness. I traveled to a place called sorrow, where no one spoke my language, all mistook my pain for beauty, this beauty that slices my soul. The blood pours thick and hot from my wounds and in dark flowing rivers that dance across my world. To heal those wounds is unthinkable... I need to travel to a distant planet where angels don't scream, beauty doesn't cause pain, and my blood is blue like the sky and the earth. [Art] [Poetry] [Fiction] [Essays] [Music] [Members] [Links] [Arts Calendars] [History] [Join] [Services]
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