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Lxnnnie Rutledzh

Lxnnnie Rutledzh

fictiononfiction

defied by hell
 
beside myself
 
i tried to tell
 
this lie so well.
 
 
 
if only my skill
 
postponed by will
 
was holy not ill
 
with lonely eyes still.
 
 
 
but this cursed sigh
 
cuts worse inside
 
so immersed i writhe
 
in this hearse i ride.

(2014)

#Ill #Lie #Self

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Autres oeuvres par Lxnnnie Rutledzh...
Borderline

Disorder has slaughtered our sacre… Your guillotine lies have severed… One year and a half of four hundre… And the last six months spent buil… For this wall was built with chemi…
May You Live in Interesting Times

A lonely creature content just to… Allured by the rooms that hide in… As one would see fit to rest with… Where time after time, you pine fo… These fields that you lie in—seeth…
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Stone Cold

I can’t get stoned anymore without getting paranoid. It’s not the plant. It’s New Jersey. It’s having kids.
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Sleight

Trailing off the desperate landfil… Into my very own lesser known hall… I wind mine through the wind in th… Should you happen to blow by; I’l…
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The Poisoned Chalice

Pitch-black flashback Immaculate hallucination. As I wring the sweat from my memo… Into this laceration. The only love I’ve ever had,
Water

How many times can I say I love t… Pull the tarp off of the sun. I need to learn.
run

When security is lax that’s when you move. They say you can run but you can’t hide— but you know the truth:
Mulch Man

I am now In the midst of shaping shifts into riddled bits of cryptic myths
Lying In Man's Broken Own

Someday the Earth will open with… To eat its own and save itself fro… This murk we shape from life is va… We bow our heads to the shame we e… You see—you know—and yet you drive…
Raid

A trillion ghosts of bugs quietly haunting this ramshackled shack. I only notice them on hollowed eves
Lines

The blender of time has utilized my face as a map to find its way back home. Discombobulation
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A Curse in the Rout

(In the beginning of the 3rd millennium of a simple calendar from a twisted religion on a beautiful planet
 2
Betwixt the Terms

In a matter of reincarnation and scientific facts, My anima has been automated to trade an eye for an axe. The weary way in which I wallow
 2
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Quietus in Just

It’s a wild tourist attraction for the stoic opulent mess, Atrocity in its burning glory, joyous and omnipresent, The fire singeing my wry reaction,
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Asteraceae

I’ve been allergic to beauty For 35 years In a series of diphenhydramine dre… Spring stings And all of these tears



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