The Artwork of Travis Trium Perfectum
“Life, for someone like me, will always be a struggle. There’s no safety net for what I do and who I am and I like it that way.” Being born into a world I rarely agree with is exhausting and because of that, I have a constant pressure to create my own. I don’t remember...
"Like a constant ache that never goes away. Mannequin hands folded up showing you how to pray. Your hands clutched tightly around god's infinite mistakes. He didn't give you life. You created your restraints. Fuck the life into you so it's mine to take." Dead hands with dead eyes, empty prayers polluting the skies. The artist may be the most dangerous of all to god. A true creator of worlds and the ultimate enemy to oppression. We're all born with chains, but how you break them should become an obsession. It's like a constant ache that never goes away. Fingernails......
"I love leaning up against time, but is this your blood or mine? I want you to lean upon your crimson, soak it up and start again. When will this ever be enough? Learn to devour without throwing up. This world is tainted and hard to ingest. You throw up from your mouth, I throw up from my chest." My chest opens wide through my ribcaged-teeth, this is where I reside. The world feeds me shit I try to forget, throw up just to stay alive. I'm not sure why I fight, to stay alive I mean. I have moments......
"My days are numbered now, but never counted down. The symbolism is exposed, but still no one knows. My blistered fingers wrapped around a pen where emotion lingers. Word by fucking word, I smash them into sculptures. May 23rd, May 23rd." I can only you hope you welcome me back with open arms, the way I would you with a cold embrace. My lips sealed for too long, now they're longing for the taste. Counter-clockwise, my thoughts circle to me. Opening up my mind and it's almost time for the world to see. These are my miseries to show, my......
As I look at myself closely, I see exhaustion. Not the exhaustion that I hate, but the kind that I respect. My ideas, thoughts and emotions are dictating to me what is expected and that can always be an overwhelming experience. I stare at my lips and see evidence of the poisonous remnants of the...
"Tonight I finally felt free. Letting go of the potential I painted you with and unlacing fingers with a memory." I'll let this writing be a memorial. I kept time from eating our moment, from eating a feeling I wanted to preserve. I've been crawling away from this place, this suffering, but tonight is the last night I'll stay. I know I will look back only to observe time devour and feed on what I protected for so long. My heart is dangerous and contagious with the passion it exudes and now I see I gave too much of that......
“My words are dangerous. Not just to me, not just to the way you think, but to conventions that don’t deserve to stand if words can make them break.” My words are dangerous. Not just to me, not just to the way you think, but to conventions that don’t deserve to stand if words can...
"This dying flower only feels alive by getting hurt. Your soiled dress hugs your body and it's evident you're dying of thirst. Your fingers coil like petals betraying the sun and you know the only way the plot can thicken is by adding dirt." Cry and you'll drink, cry and you'll drink. I remember saying this to your melting face. I know what you wanted and you knew it too. I slapped your petals away from your outreach, I'm not your sun, I'm more like bleach. I'll take all your beautiful colors away, but drink me and I'll give you......
The heart battles with the mind, the pen and the spine. You’ll never survive making love, making love to the memories of time. I have too much confidence to confide in you. A recollection of all the wreckage, this is a life you won’t live through. I realize what I am and deep down you...
"How effortless it is... Spreading her thighs and inhaling the flies. Your insides so cold, eggs hung in every fold. Eyes rolling like a cursive secret under your lids. I really wish I could read that message or are these words meant to be held hostage?" I'm not sure why I'm here. I'm not sure what I want. Maybe to ravage you one more time before I forgot. I'll show you all the things you forgot you wanted. Your body devoured with such splatter and sheen. My mind marks this thought, a yellow taped memory scene. I lean back to......
