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Mother may I crawl back inside?
A warm place of nothingness.
A void of remembrance, lack of life.
What future does this path hide?
In isolation and loath for kin, it disgusts me.
We were the spawn of two ruined shells.
Who’s childhood hell could only teach hollowness and disconnect.
I’m sick of being rolled like die.
Like there’s some uncertainty in where we’ll land.
The hand we were cast left an oily darkness no amount of water can wash.
I bounce off life’s surface, and experience things seemingly at random as I fly.
When we stop we will always find one.
Destined to be lonely and hateful like you, and to be confused in the origin of our disposition.
It’s not your fault you lead two souls down the red brick road.
You both thought you could be normal.
Be human.
But you’re nothing, just like he and I.
You both externalized trauma long past, if sympathy ran in the family I’d share some.
We’re all alone, with nothing in common.
I just want the alienation and confusion to end.
The needles that stick in and ******* bend.
Oh ******* please.
Mother may I crawl back and die?
Clay Face Jan 30
I’m the thing in the middle of the street at night.
I’m an alcohol prone cigarette drone.
Roll me up some suicide, I puff it with pride.
I’m what’s feared at night.
I even give myself a fright.
The world takes pictures of me.
A spectacle.
I’m the perfection of failure.
I’m the shadows.
The dismal abyss the world needs.
I’m colder than a robot.
Quieter than a rat.
I’m what you can but can’t see.
I’m cheaper than air and just as useful.
Use me up, ******* away.
I seek love and connection.
A warm place to be.
My disposition cuts connection clean.
I’m the H spoon.
Never washed, always abused.
I’m spread like a disease.
Unwanted, and to be killed.
Eradicate me please.
I’m a ***** injected, loose connected, nicotine aspirated, four cylinder waste machine.
No one cranks me with the hand of desire.
Just in lust of deceit and fire.
I’m thrown away when you’re done with me.
I’m the byproduct of society.
The degradation of sobriety.
I’m the Night Rider.
Clay Face Nov 2020
The one who’s behind you is the one you love.
Something else calls you’re name, tickles your ear.
But what happened to the intuition of what was and is so true?
Ticks on your shoulders, did they wait for you?
Left you in corruption, an unsound view.

The trade is so strong, kills your brawn but what can you do? The pain never ends, when no one wins, you can only die in this life. The paper god on your tongue melts you into glue.

It’s agonizing as you bind the world.
Nothing splits you but your pulled by all.
Reality stretches your skin, your mind loses sight and you’re paranoid. It will never end.

And it never ends
And it never ends
And it never ends

A woman evolves from the colors on the wall.
Strange and hairy, lament grows as her fur.
Scintillating messages of life and death they call.
Who am I, and who are you?
I’m speaking in tenses contradictory to a single point of view.
I can hear her scream, as she shaves her pits.
So beautiful it serenades my mind and scars my eyes.

I’ll never have her, and she dissolves into the bars of this cell again. I’m coming down or I’m blasting off, so hard to tell when god digests so well. Release my mind. It will never end.

And it never ends
And it never ends
And it never ends

Pierced skin, stained skin, ripped skin, all over her.
She’s broken and odd, but so close to me, I can’t help but connect.
The cover of her book is blank and new.
Pages are torn and ******, nothing to awe but still novel inside.

It drains me as it’s end never finds an end.
I can’t belong here when I’m rinsed of life and I dry as glue.
Bound and confound I can’t decide what voice to choose.
You’re on the right and I’m on the left, in the middle is me and we are you.
The nurse draws a bath and I am rinsed.
Drooling in comatose they wipe your lip.
Who new god had a price and came in a sheet.
That little square is the key to become like me.
So free from what’s contrived when you can’t decide the difference in truth.

The days go by and the years turn to seconds.
The nurse whispers in our ear, your mother is here and we start to cry. She holds our hand.
And it ends.

And it ends
And it ends

It ends.
Clay Face Jun 2020
I love it.
But grow trees to adumbrate it’s anima.

To force a mascaraed upon its glow.
Tarp my elation for it.
It’s guttural.
I feel my definition eave when I do it.

Alien cliques called societal norms.
Make such a scintillating activity, abnormal.
I hurt no one through such a cosmetic lust.
Fabric is not a great medium for harm.

I cringe at such struggles.
For gender roles and such.
One shouldn’t care of what other think.
God knows I’m a hypocrite to state that.

I want to share my “taboo” with someone dear.

I need to.

Anyone who struggles with personal enjoyment.
Doing things that are no harm to others, but are considered deviant.
I would love to leave you with a quote.

“I am human, nothing human is alien to me.”

Where whatever clothes you want to.
Love whoever you want to with their consent.
Clay Face May 2020
Sitting above me?
Or laying a front me?
Who is god!

God is the creator of all.
Yes of course.

My mind creates everything I’ve experienced.
My mother created my mind.
Who is god!

Is god the creator of physical material?
Or is god the decipher of it all?
Is god what I desire?
Or does god reside in me already?

Am I part god?
Eggs so fertile, but absent of seed so volatile.
Who is god?

Our minds are so powerful.
But we only experience less than one millionth.
All thanks to the computer above me.

Is that god?
Is god the computer generous with information.
Or the mother, fertile and generous in sustenance and life?

Whoever you are...
Hello God.
Clay Face May 2020
Tease me,
Never please me.

Denial my only hope.
Enslavement a burden to cope.

Bosoms, Vaginas, legs, stomachs, bellies, chests, armpits, hair. Hair everywhere.
Let me drool over you, you shower in it.
Not to cleanse.
It dribbles down your cheeks into your mouth.
It’s flavor is sweet and addictive.
You’ve been blessed with so much to ponder.
Those who don’t gaze are self protective.
Although you poses such to be admired.

Tease me,
Never please me.

Denial my only hope.
Enslavement a burden to cope.
  May 2020 Clay Face
Luna Jay
Yes, I'm finger lickin'
Keep me in the kitchen,
Cause *****, I'm a snack.
Hit me from the back
Make that ***** clap
And as soon as I **** your sap
You can buy me a bucket of grease.
I stay down on my knees
I aim to please.
Easy when you're ******
Need a nut busting buddy.
Get me off and leave me alone
in the nicest way possible.
Touching myself after tossing you out
Because the lust is just unstoppable.
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