In Utero.

There are times you've got to ask yourself if it's your own life you're trying to save, or start over.
I've been here before. These markings look familiar, they've just slightly aged. As have I.
This time around I'm able to recognize the signs of the impending storm around me, and find shelter from the rains.

As my 23rd birthday passes I've realized I've got all that I could ask for. And while the road to get here may have been long and spiraling at times, it took the journey to prepare me for what's next. A child won't be easy to raise in this decaying world, but we're ready. This is what we've worked so hard for- and in the end, family is all you really have.
I know that now, after trying it all and being left rather unimpressed.

"You.... can insult someone without swearing."

I can rip you apart without using my hands.

You're beautiful when your insecurities bleed out

drenched in self doubt, I can see you drowning
and I'd extend my hand to save you baby,
but they've been chewed off at the wrists.
I can only sit and watch you drift deeper into your abyss.

Making the intangible fathomable; straight from my mind, to right before your eyes.

Some drawings I finally got around to scanning.

Star gazing deep within myself - I spy your reflection, projecting it's way back to me.

And I hope your life was worth it, all the time you spent deserving Hell you got it served hot and steaming, baby you wear misery so well.