Category Archives: Paradise Drift



…when there’s nothing left to be said. When the mind hides behind dreams of violent conclusions and drifting memories, what’s left to be explained? More importantly where does one find the words? It starts with the complicated end that fractured the will. Flesh. Weak meat tied up in delusions of self importance. I remember reeling in the fish and watching it choke… red and dark. Blue and red. Red and dark.

I wish to God I could find the words. It’s like a faded memory of something pleasant that comes with a scent on the wind. Images fade the waking mind but the memory is still warm and comforting. And no matter what I possibly hope to say, it won’t change the wane of the day. It won’t change the cosmos at play.

The dance began as a playful sort of innocence that blossomed beyond the control of either body involved. Love is like that. You can’t choose it and you sure as fuck can’t ever hope to control it.

The cement room is dark and musty and full of horrible memories of a childhood spent dreaming and ending screaming. FUCK IT ALL! FUCK THIS WORLD! FUCK EVERYTHING THAT YOU STAND FOR! He screams the lyrics at the top of his lungs as he feels the numbness spread. He takes another sip of cheap vodka and pukes a little bit of it back into his mouth. He swallows the puke because his pride will allow no weakness. He takes another lortab and beckons the devil in the corner of the room a little closer. The tears come from nowhere and are just as sudden as the laughter that chases them away.

Because I could write a million words and still never tear this goddamn disease from inside of me. I can’t remember myself before that night. Who the fuck was I to be so foolishly oblivious. They say what point is there to dwell on the inevitable? I say what is the fucking point of denying and ignoring it? Go ahead and bury that shit 6 ft deep in your subconscious, watch it dictate and control your every goddamn move anyway. I embrace the darkness. I have no choice. It swells and grows in me. Dreams of red. Dreams of black. Dreams of the faces of people I’ll never see again. Dreams of a truth better left with the dead, when there’s nothing to left to be done and…

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Posted by on November 1, 2016 in Paradise Drift


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Just Like Butterflies

               They hover around you for the taking. Like buzzing little bees. No. More like butterflies. You collect them like a child does baseball cards or even fucking comic books. Their strikingly beautiful colors dazzle you and entertain that inner longing for something new. Something beautiful and something strange. They’re bottled and put on display, wings half heartedly flutter against the immovable lid of your compassion, then finally give in and the little creatures tumble down. It’s the wings that so captivate you. The various colors and intriguing patterns keep you dazed and entertained for as long as it takes to look to the jar on your right.

             …..and as I stared into the neon lights I felt the magic of the night. I felt the drift and embraced the pull. Alone and stoned and walking aimlessly, drifting and grifting through alleys and souls. Gift the world and I’d ask for a receipt and a smile, because one was always infinitely more fucking valuable than the other. Then in the end it didn’t matter because chains of loyalty are just that, correct?

              Cotton balls and alcohol and a deep peaceful sleep for the collected. They fall light and quiet and feel a weightless extension of the tweezers. Fix into place and stretch wide the wings. Breathe deep and steady the hands as shaking shall bring only harm. Steady now, gently pierce the thorax and pin into place your most curious infatuation. Just like butterflies.

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Posted by on June 25, 2016 in Paradise Drift, Poems


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Boxing With Demons

               We were young and free so we did as we pleased and danced the night away. The world morphed and changed as the crimson explained a truth burdened with fear. The collapse of the past and the collision of the future expand like a solar flare. I’m so disconnected and it makes me sick because I just can’t grip the goddamn give a shit. Wooden benches that stuck the back and lessons that bled into the seems. I met the ponder with faith as one and felt the damage caused. I bled the damage caused. I burned the damage caused. In flames it went and in return to char as the skin would bubble and pop.  I’m so disconnected and it makes me sick because I feel to well at home.

               It’s in the eyes, the wise would say if only ignorance had spared their tongues. A breath and a wish, a moment of bliss and it’s always better in the eyes. Truth be told fortune rarely favors the bold but instead tends to mask the dead. For in truth there are lies and with a magicians disguise there is no telling what can be done. For though the bridge has burnt away at least the ashes will eternally remain. The scorched earth reveals the pain of love impaled upon a jesters knife. So split the hairs and locate a smile because to forsake it would be the ultimate crime. The moon reflects naught but the sun and so does your light hit even the streets you walk. If darkness encroaches, well simply smile as it approaches and watch the shadows flee. It always seemed to work for me. Love, Jaxxsin

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Posted by on April 10, 2016 in Paradise Drift



Scribbles & Bits

               I can’t seem to find myself asleep tonight, for I can’t seem to find myself through these dreams at night. They thrash and scream like a distorted memory, and I’m all tied up in chains with no vision of a key.

               I found it hard to trap the rest of me, held down by a sickness with no remedy. I even pondered upon an apothecary, even he said there was nothing that could be done for me.

               I asked the dead to please forgive me, the past transgression’s taken hold of me. I found salvation in a battery, because it was the only thing that never seemed to fucking cut out on me.

               Random lines scrawled on an empty page. Thoughts scribbled in a flurry of motion. Words of wisdom are hard to find yet the proclamations of the damned can be found in bright neon by the side of the highway. When we were young everything seemed so splendid and new. The town was small but the minds contained therein even more so. I only ever thought of breaking away.

               Death is whispering within the wind. I hear him beckon like a missing friend. I try to find myself through. But the wind sounds like sugar in a deaf man’s ear and all that I can seem to find here is just more fucking fear and if salvation hides in the wind it’s clearly beyond my ability to fucking hear.

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Posted by on March 9, 2016 in Paradise Drift


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The 15th

               The rain has never smelt quite so clean and the moon has never shone as bright, as the young lovers dance amidst the chilly night.  He drifts aside her as the clean air pulls, they come together as one and shiver down to their souls. It’s a conquest met for some and a curse found for others, but none can deny the beauty in a pair of dream bound lovers. The world won’t wait for a second chance, so when caught up in the music never forget to dance.

               The breath of a moment and the grip of a rose, the vision of the day caught up in a vulgar pose. You see the thoughts are like vampires and ferocious as bees, they fly and sting and take until they bring you to your knees. I felt the fall as it happened and smiled despite the pain, no matter how hard I try, I still smell her in the rain.

               I feel it in my weary heart. I felt it from the very start. I feel it every time I dream. I felt when I made you scream. I feel it breathing like a fee. A tossed out image and a stolen key. I felt you feel me in my heart. I fucking felt it from the very start.

               Then the rain came and washed the ashes of yesterday back into the blue. Taking care to leave not a trace of life behind. The moon will shine as another empire falls. It will stand vigilant as a reminder that dreams lost have still been felt and that joy, though temporary, is indeed a real and tangible thing. So shine my midnight mistress. Shine on eternal and hold my heart safe and secure within your bosom. My angel of the evening, hold me till I wash away, and know that my heart will only ever beat for you and our midnight dream.


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Posted by on March 5, 2016 in Paradise Drift


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Fever Pitch

               I dreamt of the pull of sand and a distant drifting land. I dreamt of a grey faced man and I watched as he took her hand. I dreamt of a fire free burning in the sky as all of the children cried out why? I dreamt of a cold cast lie and the dream fell like tear from her eye. I dreamt of grinding stone and lecherous tombs empty of polished bone. I dreamt of a world with a sun never shown and watched as the darkness revealed me all alone.

               It’s a mess of thoughts that lead nowhere and I can’t even recall trying to care. I feel the fear of the coming frost and the distant discourse between the lost. And the ashes they just keep calling and in my dreams I’m always falling and my knees are stained red from all of this crawling and I can’t hope to survive this stalling.

               I thought that I knew your name. I even thought I knew your way. I felt the world fall as I heard the news. I heard the blood as it rushed it’s way from my beaten heart all the way through my eyes and felt them moisten in response. I knew the truth then. I felt the ice.

               My hands shake on the lighter as the flame scorches the memory. It is a temporary fix but I know it’s still there. Scratching at the surface like a trapped idea and wanting more of me to kill. I look down and see a hand in mine. It’s only for a moment but I swear I can feel it’s warmth. I can almost feel it tickle it’s fingertips up my arm and past my shoulder and brush my hair.

               I fell through the sky like a print in disguise and watched as it danced away the evening. I felt the moon’s caress and misused the motion and fell deep inside my mind. I dropped through the ocean and into the sea and felt the entire world forget about me! The depth of fear is vast indeed and it’s probable to redesign the seed but impossible for the crippled in need. I don’t want your hand holding me aloft. I won’t be your broken. And I’ll stand alone with my shattered plan. Because after all that’s all I had! A fucking shattered plan for a crippled man standing in the shifting sand. It’s all I am and all I had.

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Posted by on March 2, 2016 in Paradise Drift


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Ninteen Summers

               The clearing is beautiful and the perfect place for a camping trip. Alcohol and a lack of self control pave the way inside the fractured mind and isolation seems the safest course as it always does. The sky is clear and the stars are the second brightest ever seen, the moon is crescent and seems a sliver of a thing just barely peeking out. There’s a slight breeze flowing and the world is perfect except for one thing. A half soul is not much of a price and even the devil would need to be hard pressed to take the deal. Something seems to be missing from the moment and the grave calls just a little louder than yesterday, promising peace yet only ever promoting fear.


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Posted by on February 21, 2016 in Paradise Drift


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