In the attic,
on the dresser.
Past garbage eclectic
and faulty electrics.
There’s a dresser.
With its drawers all locked
like your head’s are.
So you climb
up the stairs
and you go
to that ***** little dresser,
and on it you see…
it
the album
you flip through it
faces you dont know
cant know
used to know
your head hurts
your parents
your grandparents
great-grandparents even
all their photos in this album
all the faces are blank to you
no eyes no mouths
theres something wrong with you
its still growing
infecting
So you put down the album.
Take ten steps back.
Down to the stairs you came from.
And you “learn” to forget about the pain you felt and the life you lost
in the attic.
On the dresser.
There was never anything there as far as you know now.
As far as you’ve ever known.
All you know is
…
something old is hurting you upstairs
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 3:14 PM UTC
when the purple trees grow with deep blue leaves
and the off-white sky hides a scarlet sea
its beautiful outside
when the great, bright eye breaks apart the sky
and stares down on plains
its beautiful outside
when your body wakes and your soul escapes
its shell for just a little while
its beautiful outside
when youre cold inside and you dont know why
and you cant stop shaking
its beautiful outside
so beautiful outside
where it shines so bright that you cant see pain at all
where a corpse may be but all youll see’s
that its beautiful outside
so beautiful outside
when youre in the dark
and youre all
alone
its beautiful
outside
when you need help
and you just
cant scream
its beautiful
outside
so beautiful
outside
too
beautiful
o u t s i d e
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 3:07 PM UTC
I’ve Lost myself.
Yell to the Lord to by proxy insusurrate sweet Nothings to I, the puppet of a God that bears No name,
such as I bear No real name.
“Adonai!” I screech and scream
alone in this dark space between.
“Jehovah”’s knife has stabbed and cut
ever since the worldwide flood.
“YHWH!”
I speak The Name…
m-y b-o-d-y w-e-e-p-s b-l-o-o-d…
Exorcise my Empty soul
my God above Without a role.
This creature sings ʰhⁱeˢr praise to You,
abscond ʰhⁱeᵐr from this Hollow pew,
“Elohim!” the Lord of all,
I am a wretch
I am a mold
to shape and scratch and heat and scold.
“Immanuel!”
from up in Hell,
said,
“Succumb to I,
the Epsilon and the Tau, God of love and the Lack of love and all things and Nothing.”
“Hosanna!”
Oh, I sanctify, I deify
I sing Your praises up on high
and all of this to aesthetize
then to my Pills, apologize
for the longings of a ᵐmᵃaᵈdᵐwᵃoⁿman while sʰhᵉe waits for Empty sleep.
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 3:05 PM UTC
who could count except me?
theres no one else
you cry your absinthe tears every night until you finally feel like youre home
home
but im not home
ive never been
not for forever
a week
and im in a dark house with no doors and no windows and it isnt a house its a stage
a theatre
but that theatre is a house
one with no doors or windows or people or love
no way under it
or above it
only through it
through the walls
those walls thatve been here since 1333
until your hands break from digging and youre drunk on aspergillus
the strong ones could take it
but you arent strong
are you?
youre alone
youre alone with no doors or windows or people or love
3 years to go
33 years to go
333 years to go
unless you leave
but you cant leave
because theres no doors or windows
but you dont need those to leave
do you?
theres a million ways to leave
but you wont
“there are people who care”
but still youre alone
unless you go out the doors
those three doors
the ones with the windows above them
then you can visit the graves
all three of them are yours
it always drove them away
you were always too much
but those doors are different from the millions of other ways out
because the doors were already there
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 3:02 PM UTC
the everlasting arms.
as i drive from Tallapoosa
heading west to Tuscaloosa
there's a weight that falls heavy on my neck.
the everlasting arms
the everlasting arms.
besides the bitter taste of *****
what else constitutes a state?
there’s no people in Demopolis
and the Son is rising late.
i hate to say my home is gone
but yellow birds are flying on
and swaying trees refuse to pay attention to the sky.
if i could say this was the Styx
at least i’d have the soul-washed bricks
to build a house, to settle down, to moralize it all.
it’s far too late to realize
that you have dug a grave.
if i had the eyes to look above
then, God, it could've saved.
i hate to say i had a home
‘cause, “home is where you're not alone”
that isn’t here, yet still i feel a calling to this place.
if purple flow’rs and stinging bees
could cry to God while on their knees
they’d know the complications that arise on Judgement Day.
the everlasting arms.
no matter where you are
they're always holding on.
tighter, tighter, and even tighter still.
the everlasting arms
the everlasting arms.
the arms.
they guide.
they guide me to the cross.
on a hill far away
there's an old rugged cross
the emblem of kudzu and rain.
and i’ll go to that cross
and my God, tie the rope
to end one more sinner’s old pains.
below Shelby and Jefferson
below Montgom’ry and Elmore
forever i’ll finally be.
but why do i miss
those red, once blue seas
and Wormwoods they forced on Creek towns?
the everlasting arms.
they hold me still
to the home of the camellias
even when i cannot see it.
the everlasting arms
the everlasting arms.
…
“And so my dear believers, as it once was written in the Book of God, ‘We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; so that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.’ And on that Hallowed Day when the Trumpets blow and the Seven Seals are broken and destroyed forever, never to be undone, we must be ready to know whether we have followed the path of good and righteousness or the path of the Devil. I for one know I’ve done good in the name of the LORD. I have given the Devil no foothold in my home…
…h a v e y o u,
d e a r b e l i e v e r?”
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 2:50 PM UTC