A pair

the kitchen light keeps flickering
flashing dreams
my hands feel thick and clumsy as I tie the rope around the chandelier
everyday I find something to die in
today I will die
Resurrection seems so horrible
I pray there is nothing to pray to
my fathers wedding ring is around my neck
a chain to sustain my guilt
I am sorry
but I am not as strong as you



To Waste
That is What the Flowers Sang
When I fell out of that moist land into this world
I came out screaming and my ears bled from my own white noise
I sink I sink
I was not meant for such exertion
It seems as if a thousand miles is walked every time
I attempt
To not sink back in

The City

The city
all splayed out
on the bottom floor of the morgue
a dim light flickering overhead
and a cold table to rest its head
while I
a parasite
living on the last vestiges of its life
waiting to die
swimming through the veins of this cold place
have found meaning
in the fading light
of this dying body

Shadow

branches twisting upwards
stabbing holes in the sky
gnarled knives of fire carving darkness
into shards of shadow

Roses

the rose petals littered the floor of the apartment
Ethereal weaves of red sweetness
and the ceiling dripped wax
while she stared into space
Empty eyed
looking out at the world as if under a frozen pond
the days all morphed in front of her desolate stare
she closed her eyes
she thought of something beautiful
her, with wings, flying above this rust covered world
everything bathed in a bright orange glow
then she smiled
as she lit the first match
and lay down in her bridal dress
to accept the flame

Better

veins stretched to the earth
burrowing down into the center of the heart of the heat of the world
To destroy the demon lurking inside
of this world that is a cancer
A cream colored abnormality
with vomit bumps and bruises
I am wet inside like a cave
I am a battery caked in crud
The planet is a Giant
and I want it to Die
with me inside



I Think This Will Get Better

Dancing

in the luminescence of a filthy light bulb
My life is set before me
my skin becomes transparent
and I see all these lines
traversing every night I have thought about death
about killing myself
and I feel like a coward
for considering to capitulate
I want to slit the throat of death
or dance with it
I am not sure which
and that confusion
that is the worst

Destruction

the whitest alabaster stick of wax
sitting in a puddle of pungency
a sickening smell that would turn your stomach
or get you high
fills the lead painted windows and cracking dry wall
as it burns lower and lower
and the room bleeds brighter and brighter
till the walls are ripped by angelic white
and the timbers sound like a gunshot
and the funeral dirge begins
and the wailing organ song destroys the place
where everything resides

Vertigo

vertigo plagues every step
every time bone meets concrete my stomach churns
the void that confronts me
that monster with breath like a funeral home
embalming fluid all over the floor
and bits of flesh
blowing like confetti
I am terrified
constantly
that tomorrow will come
and I'll still be here

Abuse

Abuse patterns our bodies
wit little squares of bruises and cuts
and triangles of scar tissue
We are a generation raised on fists
and television

The Breeze

words cut through my sternum
like so many fingers held over the flame
or a knife through the flesh of a calf
mawing for its mother
as the winter comes cold and unforgiving
and the land turns to frozen sea
and the rage
the rage
it melts the land
and the people drown as the water gets higher
and the soil eats up the last of their sins
the flies and the cockroaches crawl over their bones
and vultures feast on their cataract eyes
and no one is remembered for what they made
because there is nothing
and no one is remembered for who they loved
because there is nothing
and no one will remember
because there is no one
and there is nothing