(h)ollo(w)

from the depths of the sea of crimson red in mine stomach(ache). bears scratching out from inside.

what we accept as reality still may not be the definition. mayhaps we have the wrong words all together. maybe those spaces between the magick and the mundane are the only times, the world we touch.

i say this, and offer as much heart as one solitary man possibly can to a burning effigy to god above. below. and throughout…

i ….(you know the rest)