Dear Goth

Chapter VII


Emotional starvation pangs me;

Loneliness craves loneliness.

I have not found...

my love

where I fit in this world

Run through and through on the blade of the enemy.

If only the wound were more than a flesh wound;

Seeking death, seeking end to pain, seeking love.

Tools of self destruction are my best friends.

Lost in love ; lost without love, love without love.

Danger present, cold and calm; bring it on.

Prepare to die; the tomb in which I shall be lonely ;

We all die alone;

save but lovers in love when mixed

with Great tragedy and despair.

In this blood ; runs the lives of kings;

And without heir we pour this blood out ;

Upon the ground in cold heartless ways.

Ash moonblood