R O T

brain slop n buglegs

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"Chat, I fear I may be remorseful"

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Painting process 💛

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Your Boy

It's all blacked out

And oh baby you're broken glass

And I'm your bitch

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Litterbug

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Sad clown wip

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My Midwestern Gothic:

-if the wind blows just right you'll hear the train whistle. Your goosebumps are not overreacting

-pretend not to see the things that wash up on the north side of the lake, the smell is just dead fish.

-dogs bring home bones from the fields, you don't go to check what they're from.

-you could have sworn they said the lake was shallow, which way back to the dock?

- ignore the stinking pile of red, it's hunting season

-people learn to drown out the noise. You could almost imagine away the humming, and the croaking and the distant shots and the howls and the breaths. Almost.

-Dead mines spill red dirt like blood. It's been rainy this week- you see him standing in the ditch, you pray to God it's just mud.

-there is more and more roadkill every day, yet none of it is ever fresh enough. You're starving

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Hello? Is there anybody there?

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Coffe and a happy little sketch

Joyful and flawed is she

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Trapped in this I am.

The strings sewn through my very heart

I fear on you- are only just looped through your hair.

You pull, and I follow

Yet if I was to stop in my tracks

You would slip away with barely a wince

And I would suffer

Agony.

Trapped in this I am, so I beg of you- walk slowly