http://slow.writerscafe.org/Baphomae The original writings of author Baphomae en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776040299 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 He'swatching you. Watching as you read this. Stands atyour back, even when its pressed against a wall. He's there and hewill remain there for whatever in you he seeks to seep from what yoursubconscious emanates. It could be fear, I suppose, or adoration ofyour humanity. All are treated d.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1468467/ Into dilapidation I've succumbed; with my hand gripped to the collar of his shirt more tightly than the thread of fate.It's threads I could feel cringe, as if painfully to my strength of hold. He saw nothing of sorrow in the green glaze of eyes I carry, and questioned intensively what had I draw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1329667/ Constraint and restriction of physicality; the wish to elude inanity. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1307521/ Baale Asylum, 3:00 p.m., August 19th 1975Dr. Colt sat in his office waiting for the arrival of his long term student who seemed to stick by his side through out any class taught by him. The student who questioned beyond that of any questioning. Dr.Colt, in some ways, seemed to favor the s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1239525/ The frenetics of screaming echoed the abyssal of subconscious; screaming of mine. It's existing plane in shards of whites gleaming endlessly like a flash of exhausted death in a mirror-scape. It is to grieve in the flotation, where mourning catches his ears, and the humming of other worldly tones cl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1238247/ Azathoth, upon the black throne, steps of twelve hesitant to tone. Madness and chaos swallowed your mind, ears of the deaf, eyes dying to be blind. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1233375/ Flesh so soothing, a depression so strong, A life so short, a misery so long. A heart that's pure, with a touch of decay, Words of slaughter, bitter blasphemies to say. A God of the throne, a God in the dirt, The evil of humanity, the supremacy of hurt. A whisper of ago.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1233374/ Decrepit creature, in the cellar you dwell, to be at the side of the "angel" that fell. The door was cast open, my words - yours to slur, the glimpse of your face, forever a blur. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1233373/ I'm not your saint, I am the thorn, I'm the havoc you will mourn. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1233372/ I watched the flesh of myself wither and scale today. Something quite off from the norm of ventures. I thought I contained parents and found an orphanage, rather. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1232951/ When you listen so silently, you can hear mourning in the cellar below to Valcon Alley; Its neighbors are daring to reside as they do this closely. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1232948/ "Is your father the monster you spoke of?"She shook her head no."Is your mother the monster you spoke of?"She shook her head no."Was this monster a real monster?"She shook her head no."It has been six years, Zeriph. You have only spoken a few words to us, if you refuse any further than we will be fo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1123471/ Harsh liquors stained the breath for when the silence was not appealing; The counter is unattractive in appearance and to tap its wooden build, it feels to crumble. The humming of deadness is repulsive, and I wept beneath the desolation that could have been a home to someone else, too... Could have... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1123119/ Through the plenty of schizophrenic elapses, is found the lowest of low hallucinogenic entities that festers at the bottom of the neurological trench, her name.. is Suri; derivative to Misery. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1120263/ I crept in a dwelling that was not of my own; but was of my own. Smoldering decay with paint that peeled from its walls; floor made of disgust and vomit inducing sights. I changed nothing at all, even in its filth; down to the scattering of the window glasses clashing the floor. partial to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1120184/ She loved her cards, sent from the children of three; Held in her withered hands of tissue in scarring. Adults as they had grown to be, but the memory of her, left them as her children, still. In there before, she was bound in their flesh; The morbidity of a blood tie.  She never knew.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1120182/ 9 315 562, 232 55 315[ I can not; but we can]I heard the echoing of my own maniacal laughter, and the frantics of screaming that came soon after; It was mine.Placed on its floor tiling and the tips of the fingers drawn in extending to trace its outlines of the cracks left between.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1120177/ Sound sub-dued, beyond its twinning; The ridges of legs that glide across its thread of silk, spindling downward from the ceiling. It's body glistens for its silhouette; the perk of blue to sharpen the dark surrounding it. The spider glided more closely, from above her face. The dark of th.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1120171/ neuro-window to the perspective of schizophrenic mental lapse http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Baphomae/1120165/