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its back

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static

static i am transcending through time and space. i am filling the hollow hallways with empty nothingness; bleeding liquefied despair seeping under the doorways and into your bedroom. i am watching you sleep. i am the demon on your back. i am the claws digging into your sides that shake your brittle bones.  i haunt you endlessly in your dreams filling your mind with constant what-ifs and why's. you swallow chemicals to pretend i am not here but i will wait for you to get back from your brief respite.  i'll make you think twice before leaving this house.  when you drive your car i am the fleeting thought in your head that says to go faster.  i am the intentionally unbuckled seatbelt and every crash on the road.  i am the cold wind against your skin and the sunburn on your neck. i am the food you don't eat. i am the friction in between your legs and the static in your sheets.  i am the paintings who watch you at school and the girl in the mirror staring back at the shell of who you once were.  i am your innocence and loss of it.  i am your virginity.  i am your body before your scarred it.  i am your hair before you dyed it.  i am your eyes before you were blinded.  blinded by the isolation of a lifetime conviction and condemnation of you versus the world... i am the snowflake that falls onto his nose.  i am the beating heart of a thousand ubiquitous unheard voices.  i am every cut on every man, woman, and child who is afraid of being alone. i am the sunset at night while you sit on your roof and smoke your last cigarette. i am the homeless man begging for change. i am your mother before she had you.  i am your father when he walked out.  i am the bullet that killed your brother.  i am the knife in your purse.  the needle in your pocket.  the gun in your dresser.  the noose around your neck.  the pills in your hands the tears on your face.  i am your confusion and despair.  i am your funeral. i am your grave. i am the trees outside your window. the grass growing around them. i am the 6 months that people care after it happens. i am your forgotten soul. i am the static you feel when you touch the doorknob to go to sleep at night.

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"It’s like you’re my mirror / My mirror staring back at me"

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this is important

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Her Again by Bri Cirel

oil and acrylic, 24” x 30”

Check out the video of the process:

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omg 

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we released our album today please listen to it if you want 

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im really cute :/

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i forgot to the stencil to the sign but it turned out cool

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reblog my selfies so i know its real

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