Issue #5


It requires a concept of abstract perceptions. An innate ability to see thru veils of deception.

Twisted fate wraps tighter around my ankles. Submerged in the weight of the truth. I've torn up many pages before this one to try and eradicate the thoughts. Waste bin overflowing with fragmented pictures of a different world. A different time when we all could fly. I dreamt last night that I told you how I felt. How I'd tell you how damn hard it is and how it'd be easier if we never had met. You'd take my hand and tell me you understand and things would be just fine like in the movies you know? But it never is like the movies is it? instead...

Banquet for kings resided over by grinning mouths split with eyes and teeth. Laughing, choking on their own sense of self-esteem while I fight for the scraps by yr chair. Tongue wrapped around in knots spitting blood thru a weeping wound. Arched back and pulled the trigger. Shot down from the sky again. One bullet; right thru the head. You know just where to aim. Blast thru the temple with shards of skull decorating yr floral dress. Fuels yr visceral being. Left me as snaking ectoplasm polluting yr lungs with the bitter taste. You breath me inside you and spit me back out.

Passed over again.

Matthew Ashcroft

Matthew is currently on the run for a crime he didn't commit and is holed up in a small pueblo on the outskirts of Tijuana using the alias ‘Murrieta’.