EveryArtz

Now, we have to take ‘best buddies’ out of conext here. After I said best buddies, you are probably now imagining that they were childhood chums who had adventures together, shared beautiful memories, rolled around in the dirt, and collectively got in trouble. But, best buddies in this instance meant that Minnaela used Jeronimo as her puppet/coverup and Jeronimo only did what she asked because she scared him. He was the only boy in the village that never teased Minnaela, because he what she was capable of. The bruises on his arm from Minnaela frequently punching him was a strong reminder of that fact. Jeronimo saw Minnaela turn o

A small hoof poked out from behind a gigantic tree that loomed out over a clearing in the middle of the Trepidello Woods on a warm, cloudy night. It was white, and newly wet from the tongue that had been scraping over it just moments before by the mother of the hoof. Or, well, mother of the body that owned the hoof. That is to say, what appeared to be a small white horse was lying behind this tree and not just a lonely hoof. That, would creepy. Its mother stared down lovingly at her newborn colt, with all the love the mother could hold in those two big brown eyes. This little colt squeaked its new lungs out, trying with all its might to open

Done and Said: So utterly alone, on a day as this Completely lost within my own fucked head Buried alive in an oceanic abyss Stuck in a horrid tale that won’t drop dead Day in and day out I walk about dead I’m a rash zombie, everything’s meaningless When all was done and said, I couldn’t use my head Inside I was gone, left with such a weakness There is nothing left of me, just this weakness At first this all seems to be a safe bet I’m left with this sick and twisted illness I’m left here to wallow in regret This was for your own good and all for you But I’m afflicted with angst so tied and

This is not a fairy tale of dragons and knights, nor a drama of whim and whit, but an account of complete loss of oneself as a result of the demise of all that you cherish; the one you love most. The best way to tell this story is simply to start at the beginning, where it all went horribly awry…                It is a beautiful springtime afternoon. The scent of freshly blossoming flowers is carried with the brisk east wind. The trees in the Black Forest had taken to their spring jacket quite well, coming back with an unusually thick abundance of brush and fresh leaves. The massive elm and hazel trees create an entrancing, ominous