La gran mentira es la cura, la idea de que todo puede ser sanado, que la sangre se vuelve ámbar sobre las heridas, y que hay solemnidad en el dolor. Negruras profundas y turbulentas arrastran al corazón en las mareas del sueño. Vendo con feroz descaro...

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"...Lord knows I was fucked from birth. Lord give me death" Pulling Teeth - From birth (Taken from the album "Funerary") The age old question of why the path is chosen has many mouths and all of them bathe me in scornful truths. Curses, inherited anger...

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What do you know of love, my sweet friend? you spit vinegar on my wounds and call it healing You sink your fingers into my lungs and claim to embrace me in times of need You peddled lies and I bought them in spades. I paid with secrets bargained a fool's...

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The dagger is the chest. The bullet becomes the skull. Nothing remains untainted. A motherly embrace shifts into murderous grasp, wisdom mutates into savagery. Crushing wheel grinds ceaselessly. Paths overlap into labyrinths demanding answers in times...

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Fear me not, dearly beloved. The light dries my eyes. A hazel mirror stares blankly from the walls of a ghostly home. Your hand flies through my neck -an arrow slung from the echoes of a war torn memory- Love bites poisoned flesh and it crumbles like...

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