poetry written when i met someone lethal, but the good kind, if there is one. ❝i love you so much that it hurts my head. i don't mind you under my skin; i'll let the bad parts in, the bad parts in.❞ ▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁ COLLECTION NO.2 #10 in poetry on 8.19.15 & 8.29.15 © wraiths™ 2015

a collection of poems i have written when i was filled with intense emotions sporadically updated [#71 POETRY]

“but i must admit i miss you quite terribly. the world is too quiet without you nearby. i go to bed early and rise late and feel as if i have hardly slept at all.”

I'M WRITING THIS BECAUSE I AM ANGRY AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THIS FIRE; I AM A COLLECTION OF BLACKENED COALS BUT BENEATH A LAYER OF ROCKS THERE IS A FIRE RAGING ON MORE PASSIONATE THAN EVER. BUT I AM ALONE, ALL CAMPERS HAVE FOOLISHLY EVACUATED. OR MAYBE IT IS MY FAULT FOR NOT SMOKING ENOUGH, OR NOT SPARKING THEIR INTEREST, I DON'T KNOW. I AM FUCKING ANGRY. COPYRIGHTED, 2015. JAKE SULLIVAN.

i am a disappointment and that is not okay. [ © thronos two-thousand-&-thirteen ]

A collection of tragedies of sorts, of demons or angels (whatever you'd fancy to call them) that lurk and/or gleam in my mind. Written when the moon's dreary and the sun's near awakening. Obnoxiously metaphoric, subtly inspirational. © Jake Sullivan, 2014

i should not love her. but i do anyway.

the scrape of a prism on us; you're the paintbrush and i am your canvas and together we draw so many convoluted lines on our lives.

two men on a path heading for nowhere.

A girl. A train. A delay. [Cover made by rigor_samsa]