Day 239 – Pathways – Whispered Words

Soaked in my own blood,

lies my eternal sin,

a sin you once bathed in,

but never will again,

you offered me something,

I thought it was true,

but you stole it away,

and you broke me in two,

you left me to rot,

you left me to die,

but I hid it,

I buried it,

the pain and the hate,

but it was too late,

I’d succumbed to its call,

it changed me,

remade me,

fucked with my head,

so I cut them,

and choked them,and ripped out their hearts,

breaking all those you cherished so dear,

your time will come,

eventually you’ll see,

but until then,

fear,

me.

Published by

Matthew Tonks

People are surprised when reading Matthew’s stories that he’s a sane forty something year old, happily married, father of one, employed full time and dream of dark disturbing things that any sane person would never even contemplate thinking of. But it's true, he’s toyed with writing for most of his adult life, but has always found the peg a writer must fit into is not the shape he wished to be. His writing can be described as lamenting, long, concussive (yes it smashes you in the head), compulsive, and stuffed with rhythmic communication and violence, let’s not forget the violence. His own opinion on his writing is this, “You see, I don't just want the words to seep into your mind, but into your soul, showing you images of blood and beauty through, volatile language, violence, sex, love and sin. My muse takes different shapes, and every now and then you can see her shining her wicked smile in some of my stories, tempting you with her promises, but ripping your heart out instead.” So have a look, and take a seat in my wayward ride, as you join me while I purge through, this twisted road of madness.

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