Morning has broken
but she has not
it had been a long night
sinister fraught
the stars were cut
in lacerations of lace
          stains of tears
                      mark trails
                   on her face
mascara in circles
mocking panda eyes
multiple moments
of almost self-demise
wrists bound to
          sadness, heart
trussed to trust
pain from crumbling
illusions, plus
that constant,
          searing lust
Now, on the floor,
lying face down
in what seemed
              like blood,
she starts to
                 move around,
as realization pours over
in a thick, viscous flood:
She can move her arms;
for they were not
                really bound
That gag in her mouth?
it has dissolved into sound
The sound of her voice
as she gets up
        from the floor
opens the window
bringing light
            to the fore
guttural noises
escape deep
                 from her throat
and before she
knows it, the
room starts to float
furniture circling
as the energy takes
        and she lets in the air
             fresh as new fate
her cuts balmed over
         winds whipping up her hair
marks from taut ropes
smoothing over to bare
and the light bursts in
          in a blast, in a whoosh
like bursts of starlight
cutting in with a push
they seep into shadows
pulsing over the dark
the howling rescinds
          in an explosion of sparks
blocks of pain that held
her chained
are knocked over
and the lightstorm
                keeps coming
her inner percussion
just doesn't stop drumming
      And as she flies through that window
and unhinges the door
            from its frame
freedom
            is now hers
            forever to claim

Here the horse munches the grass
little knowing the trots of yore
for time when lays the bricks with curse
unhinges the strongest door.

Here the horse is tethered to feed
little hearing the neighs of past
for time when crumbles sows a seed
grows new order from soil of dust.

Here the horse lazes in sun
little seeing the shadow's growth
for time when ends a period's run
buries in the walls a lover's oath.

Here the horse walks in a round
little feeling the earth's spin
for time when shrinks the highest to ground
kingdoms fall in heaps of ruin.

I do no want to be angry
Anger is not an emotion you have truly felt
until you know how much it hurts
and how it unhinges your mind,
introducing scary new thoughts
into your consciousness

It keeps you up at night,
a feeling so intense that it interrupts
and erases all others,
leaving you
empty

It is a fuel,
but it burns *****
leaving debris and remnants
in the motor of your mouth

It pollutes every aspect of compassion
flowing through your veins

It will never run it's course and die out,
it sows the soil of your soul
leaving seeds of despair
reaping crops of destruction

Anger is not to be taken lightly because
it is the chemical manifestation
of all that is wrong in the world
finally
getting
to
your
head.

Of all things unknown,
easily a non-denumerable infinity, very little will drive a person to the precipice of madness like the insignificance of a statistic - say one in seven billion,
a statistic that unhinges the mind, dragging out primitive insanity, catalyzed by spurned desire,
an insanity that is raw-
raw and sick and hungry-
feeding upon itself like an epidemic, an acid that reduces one's existence to a longing for a hypnopompic eternity, some twisted fascination that becomes an elegy for the ******, one where the past with holds the future, laughing at the heart's bipolar fluctuation between absolute paralysis and pure agony, a grey stillness to a light switch flipped off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and aren't you tired yet? Are you not chilled by truth's cold whisper, shaken awake by logic's steel grip?  
It is a rare prison we build for ourselves-
trapped between what we know and what we wish,
these non-existent walls of unrequited everything,
where melancholia acts as our shackles and we sit in complete silence,
content in our discontent,
because we know,
we know that escape is intangible
when you are both jailer and
captive.

I'm strung out on you.
I'm intoxicated with the way
you make me feel.
I tingle when I think about it.
Your scent unhinges me.
Completely.
The warmth of ecstasy
vibrates in my core.
I am high when I am
near you.
Adrenaline rushes through
me like *******.
The sensation of your touch
unfolds me like a map
to the origin of pleasure.
Your words stroke me
and make my body bend,
twist and shake.
Under your hand I
contort and shiver.
You make me quiver.
You grab me and
swivel my hips.
My eyes roll back and
I bite my lip.
Like ******
time does not exist
when you are in me.
Your caress is like ketamine
I can not feel my extremities.
There is no ceiling.
There is no floor.
The way you move me
makes me your *****.
Like MDMA  your
embrace makes my
heart race.
You take me on a
ride that I can not escape.
The ****** is like
sitting on a speaker in space.
Your deep base line
makes my spine roll.
The loss of control
feels like a k hole.
I inhale you .
You envelop me
internally.
You have full control
of my body
Without you I am sober.
Without you I am
waiting for more.
I need another hit of you.
I'm strung out on you.

I'm losing control,
Watching his body go limp,
In my mind,
Imagining his eyes rolling back,
And gradually closing,
Feeling his heart,
Halt to a sudden stop,
And visuallising his unmoving chest,
His head lolling and heavy,
The image unhinges me,
Heart too fast,
Eyes wide open,
Body shaking,
*Just another flashback

I see the black snake of death.
As it suffocates me and steals my breath I see the word lies written across it’s neck.
Gulping coughing choking on regret, but the serpent tells me not to fret.
Twisting tying constricting my soul.
It won't let go.
Manipulation cold contemplation has led to this aggravation, and my ******* lack of hesitation.
Tears fall without grace, the snake and I now face to face.
Its hollow eyes take me in, drench me in unholy sin.
Gagged and rotten are the teeth of death.
It’s jaw unhinges and I see the tunnel leading me straight to hell.
I once was an angel but slowly I fell.
Crashing to the darkness below, I am forever here to dwell.

my heart unhinges, crackling
when midnight stares at me
bleak anticipation lingering
where nosiness of endless stars -
dusted over me not yet ablaze
was not enough;
even if they freckle my skin
and speckle my heart - but
i sleep next to creaking doors and
breathe in synch to planets dying -
i am not ready yet, dear, i won't yet go
i kiss the moon and stars goodnight;
when midnight stares at me, i stare right back.

I have been buzzing around meaningless
Day after day, week after week
It’s still here
Fog in the form of sand trapped in my brain
Static is too dull a word to describe it
**** this
I have nothing else to sort through
The exhaustion is worthless even though I still have it
And I’ve been screaming for so long
But because I am paralyzed
Because I gripped my own throat for too long
Only dust comes out when my mouth unhinges

I’m still impatiently waiting for happiness to come and clean me up
Spark spark spark
I clench my fingers into my side
It feels like dirt in between my nails
I’ve been blown out like a candle
And like ash I float away

I want to know how you take your coffee.

I'd like to gather up all of your pieces
And pierce them with sewing needles.
I'll watch them bleed,
And scab and scar,
Until they result in you.

I'll shine a light into your darkest places,
And scribble down your secrets.
Let a feather duster explore the things long forgotten,
Until all of your sins have been uncovered.
Let a flaming wick alight your eyes,
Until your passions burst forth, uninhibited.

I'd like to trace your lines, your cracks,
Your every imperfection,
Until your mind unhinges completely.
I'll drive you mad with my probing.
You'll be crazy with me.
And I'll be lost somewhere inside of you.

And neither of us, will ever be the same.

Thorough I fall in gravity's stall. My jaw unhinges during the opening of my mouth, spewing out silent, unspoken words of unimportance. Blah, blah, blah, I keep wandering about, unheard, unwanted, and unaware of your *******. Stupidity for the all-knowing and self-righteous minions, may their force not be with me. I speak with crow medicine, better than prescriptions. I feel with emotion. I listen with soul. I think with mind. I love with heart and convictions.

Like a snake unhinges its jaw—pink cheek exposed—

to something warm and whole, I unhinge you over and over and over again in my mind when I need to shed away every time I told you I would visit,

when I need to shed away that night we drank a cheap six pack in my tangle of blankets,

when I need to shed away the songs you wrote about blue eyes,

when I need to leave only the raw, scaly bits of you—the bits I scraped away at and made real, not the girl four hours away with the name I always mispronounce,
not the pieces she only barely notices when you leave her side, or the pieces you left for me to find, scattered on my windowsill.

I unhinge the moment your forked tongue first formed the words “I love you,"

the day I took pictures of you playing my guitar with the missing string—you said you didn’t need it anyway.

I think about the wrongs we righted when I slept in your car with your hand on my head, and I know I can’t come close to chewing our problems over, so I swallow them whole.

Fingertips graze the spine
as the mind unhinges its
large jaws of speech,
Gnawing at the prospect
of knowing you through time
and space.
What enters my heart is
no longer darkness
But only the light of the
beautiful earth. I
descend into my body
again. Even after my
trancendental experience.
I give myself to the music
as it always is rushing
through my veins. Blood
that is an inferno of
statement and philosophy.
Where do you stand in this
game with me? Checkmate?
Pawn? Bishop? King?
Slide into me oh Rook.
Destiny calls to us.

you do not remember,is what you should know first,
remind yourself that:
you do not recall writing an eulogy as a love letter,
you forget about the graves you've dug,
all the pretty faces and estranged loves you've buried here in agony once

foreplays should not burn as repeated pictures in the back of your mind–do not speak of how you have this body memorized—
so you do not put the same record on,
you do not dance in the same room,
you do not sway to the same tune,
offered first to those that intoxicated you with life

you do not light her mouth,gasoline boy
you do not fuel her insides
with the same lies that burned you
you do not kiss her still tasting like the bleeding red of someone else's lips

you do not,you cannot **** the sadness out of her
corpses do not feel anything,do not hear you pray to another god
corpses do not have hearts that break upon being touched by hands that know pleasurable pain well in the most repulsive ways
you do not look at the eyes burning with saltwater
you shrug it off as how you ignore warnings and triggers
we revel in the body's warmth,it feels good pretending it's alive, but the body pretends it's not here
pretends it's just paper skin and friction igniting,acting as catalyst of our self-initiated destruction

you chase your high
the locks come loose
everything unhinges from their hold
darling,there is nothing ghosts fear more than being lost

and after the deed is done
you do not stare at the remains,
you do not paint your face with empathy
it's all for love,it's all for fun
besides, dead girls do not bleed
nor do they cry

I stumble on the ground beneath my feet.
What lies ahead I cannot beat.
The lies, the flair, this oppressive air
Unhinges my nerves and blinds my stare
And tosses me back to worlds unknown
Full of dark shadows and whispers blown.
The berating of limbs and sinking ground
Entangle me whole and push me down
Till darkness is all I see.
No more will Light be my master's key
With which to open my mind and clear my soul
For those thoughts and deeds that once took hold.
Somewhere down this darkened stream
I take hold of firm root, it may seem
Only to be ****** within my chest
Freezing my heart along with all the rest.
No more to see, no longer to stay
My breath is caught fast as I slowly float away.

The curse of Un-living unhinges even one as proud
Guilt alone could undo one’s wicked past
Titles I have sought by might & rumour
Tyrant, King, Reaper, Hound, Eater

Once,
Impaled foes fills my moat
Crescendos of screams, in symphony
With the hums of my throat

From the jugular
My canine harvests red elixir
Damning my thrall to reluctantly
Creep along my crimson mantle

All this time taking, I ache to give
Would this year be Turtă dulce
Or Clătitele cu gem?
Native delights that would surely
Bring out those little goblin’s grins

the thrill and guilt
of transgression
unhinges my very being.

a foreclosing law is laid down
on the fierce skin of justice.
duty and danger calls.

and should the heavens truly fall,
if i'm caught, or probably even if not:
it will be an even greater struggle than ever before, living myself,
but that's not all, at the very least, that's not all.

It hurts where? Yes, it will hurt everywhere.
Stethoscope there in the room with stainless surfaces and a ticking,
No it is a tapping behind the walls stirring the blood snared along with something inside of me.
Potions and cures, then sealed containers of flowers and beakers locked away remain motionless.
As if hiding, as if afraid.
Rather, enlightened of the cells I carry.


Befriend the gallops of illusion.
Four horsemen down from the failing ceiling.
Postmarked dollhouse, scars on the ceiling, echoes joined to you at the hip.
Scars of the disease you carry and sprinkle onto chests like so many children's agony.

Hooves carry eyes to scan this barren nest of yours.

There,
the ruins of something innocent.

And there,
the photos of some memory discarded.

Assured with the reality that creation of life is but fantasy here, unattainable.


The innocent fall.

Smiling as they enter, your charms masking the smell of your closet's skeletons, a door revolving unhinges.

The coins you receive, coated in thumbprints and neglect. Mirrors of your frame.
A currency, your own currency of moans and gnashing.
Your small teeth becoming your permanent incisors.
Crumbling.
Powder then paste, yet you remain alive.

They become your master for sixty nine dollars.
They became your lover for want of a token.

Tokens forged in the booth appearing near noon.

Nothing else or again.

Then the drummer moves to erase the music of your past.

A vat overfilled with murmurs and spittle.

Your finished symphony.

From the boughs of trees
in the Garden of Eden,
a great, heavy serpent emerges.
Its countless muscular movements
up, along my spine,
lead to my tingling skull.
And there,
quietly,
it fixes its fangs at the base.
I feel the venom catch the current of my blood and rush away with it,
and I'm paralyzed,
absently noting that I may soon die.
My speech is frozen in my mouth
as its cool, slippery sheath winds tighter
about my throat.
I blink away the weariness,
attempting to focus,
but its arrow of a head has arrived at my cheek.
Ah, there you are,
I say,
just as it unhinges its jaw,
and consumes me,
face first.

Place your hand.
Swear the oath.
Picture exactly where.
It.
Happened.
Words disintegrate definitions.
As images blur by.
The story unhinges a little more.
With every retelling.
Lost into the pool with the rest of the forgotten.
There are some that hook the mind.
Weighing down the subconscious.
With little effort.
As if these...
Afflictions.
Were sentient themselves.
Cunning is the silent killer.
With every new experience.
Comes an equal wound.
Blood has no meaning here.
Yet the cold wraps around like deaths blanket.
It is only when each function is exhausted.
Every seam undone.
Will we finally unravel.
Revealing.
Irony incarnate.
For this choice was never.
Yours to make.

A writer gawps at society,
I went to a bus stop after tea,
Littered with used syringes,
Drugs evolving, slightly unhinges,
Why do we accept this as normalcy?
It's a challenge for the authorities,
Or for changing norms in society..........

Still, as the untouched glass of water
Flowing, as the memories dissolve inside
Absolute, as its essence remains unchanged
Wavering, as it absorbs the experiences
Time unhinges the very fabric of existence
Only to become its preexisting condition

The night can be livelier than day sometimes
The darkness can be brighter sometimes
There's hope in stillness of night
For those who don't belong otherwise
In which lies the flaws of society
The perfectly structured flaws

There's a heavy silence that lay in darkness of night
like a wet blanket on surface of earth
A blanket in which you can crawl and hide;
In silence which you can almost hear
In silence that unhinges people
In silence that keeps them sane

1-800-BEAR
... removal? is that a thing? julie thinks i’m joking, but she also thinks i’m not good at jokes. she has a prescription for nausea and non-fiction family. a sneaker collection. i like when she talks about her dreams. she likes when i talk about shattering. julie asks why i don’t call the cops. i laugh because her jokes are better than mine. i pick up a different object every day and call it art. today? a to-go cup of orange juice. it hurts so bad. cops **** dogs.
-
i tell god i will be such a good girl. god tells me i’m not a girl. i don’t think that’s important. god says stowaways don’t get second chances. i think that’s *******. i tell god there were no chances, only iterations (spaceship/arbor/fane). god gives me a remote, calls me uncontrolled.
-
orange triangle in a blue sky. all my art is the same art, and i want to say all the wrong things about it. i want to be all the wrong things about it. wrong. get it wrong, say the name wrong, paint the wrong shape, compost everything. feed it to the angels. if they’re here.
-
as we approach the valley i ask, is this mine? honest mistake.
i’m excited, but god is hanging back on this one. lawn chair, cocktail with umbrella and straw. pink sunglasses and a technicolor poncho.
no, god says. but look alive.
we've come [together] to observe the supper of the venerable maw.
the valley is deep and suffering.
are you sure this isn’t mine, i ask again, but then i see it-
my reason for journeying.
taller than god-tales. mouth a frothing triangle. arms ending in twin fetishes.
suddenly i'm the moon in a field of flowers.
there's a village and they provide sheep for the feeding. the sheep are loud. they sound like one animal.
go no closer, god says. i go no closer.
the behemoth unhinges its jaw, and- i'm the moon in a field of dead cars. no. i'm a cup and i’m full of strange water.
this is mine, i tell god. stop lying to me.
god says nothing. god gods a bar into existence. music in the valley. blood on wool in the valley. i'm pulled inside and fed different food.

The shape slides off in every second
The haste shift of my mood with odd friend
Tired of the sunshine sinking on a sullen breath
Please let me touch you in relevance

Consider me
What is the point in believing that soil is falling?
When the earth flirts with my sins and innocence unleashes, unhinges
And then consider me
For i will kiss you properly
Then consider me
For then i will hold you properly

Swans floating with tears dripping
Springs in far distinct veiled galaxies
For it is dark not because i want it to be
Because no kindness is ever lurked with quiet and gentle symphony

Consider me
What is the point in burning pile of pride?
When the water mocks the wood and names it unredeemable and crude
And then consider me
For i will love you properly
And then consider me
For i will feel you properly

Paradigm i would hold you properly and gently
The tale would hate her page and beg us to be born free
Plead the same we wish our results might be
But oh lover, i could feel the burning breeze
But oh lover, i could feel the willow disintegrating

I slit apart your soul,
And I ridicule your innards,
I cackle at the thought of such a sad excuse
For this lump of human rind and bone,
You lived a life alone
And so,
Your termination shall be so, as well

I interpose myself between the dirt and your mind,
My jaw unhinges devilishly
My tongue licks you blind,
As it spits putrid words of pity
Dastardly staring darts into your
Witty little demise
That I conjured up myself,
A plan I devised
Your shriek will not salvage what’s left
Stop wriggling,
Your writhing is futile
You’re powerless,
Pathetic mortal *******,
You’re crucified
Why bother try?
Your cries go unnoticed,
Neither dead or alive
No one close by
Your miserable wheezing
As I’m breathing with ease
I’ll mutilate your wants and desires
Set ablaze in a fire
Incinerated with your own choir
Your sad song of solus fate
You’re at stalemate
Your blood will stagnate
Until it’s mucilaginous
Until your own body defeats you,
It chokes you and mistreats you,
And ends you from the inside out
A slow death, undoubtedly
A vile, cataclysmic, unendurable ending
An excruciating decease
But fair,
As you deserve nothing less
Than this wretched release