Call me what you will.
I know what I am.
She says I’m cute,
while she builds with sand.

Red haired angel I’ll never smell.
Intimate relation to be withheld.

On her knees but not low,
Her hands cup that beige snow.
If I could spill my insides out,
I could paint it all red and yellow.

She deals in truth,
And sells lies.
But she did want me
Between her thighs.

Oh what a pleasure to pleasure.
I’d give anything to set her beauty off.
If only things were different,
Without this novel cough.

Might happen, I’m stupid.
What buffoon could swoon in.
She’s perched a top.
Between dragons breath and stairs.

To wish it was a fool.
To believe it was a fool.

I have more of any noun than sense.

I’m sick of watching them squirm on the floor.
But it never ends, I always want more.
Once the feeling seeds,
it’s put on the list of needs.

Is it shameful?
Or is it natural?
I have a needle I can’t get rid of.
It refills itself after each use for free.

It’s plunger is pulled back so easily.
Anything over the course of the day.
Can fill it’s tube with lives.

Can’t help but push it forward.
Release.

It ends not so clean,
Because I am ****** Machine.

Within this constriction
We define perfection

Perfection is subjection
Subjective is perfection

Dangerous is the definition
Disheartening is the caused segregation

Segregation then leads to dehumanization
Dehumanization brings a solution

A final solution

All from the definition
Of perfection
Of attraction

How beauty is the chaperon
For destruction

Is a cyclic maceration
Of the human condition

How repugnant and inane

Future and past is inundated by a dismal shroud

To be perfect is to accept those who possess your idea of imperfection

Stay open minded, avoid apathy, seek the uncomfortable

Let’s break the cycle

Stagnant and thinking

Confused and blinking

Age draws on

Yet still a pawn

Standard and simple

Dull and wimple

Wrapped in indifference

Trapped warm desire

In need of deliverance

If I come un-strewn

May I be blessed in womb

Re-birthed and open

More accepting and woken

New insight could dislodge this anchor

Only I can treat my own lamer

Once in motion

Loneliness is in emaciation

Finding friends in exploration

Finding one for intimacy

Not based on elegancy

Venerate character

Each must love the other entire

Both exchanging devotion and tenderness

Only full of equality, truth, and openness

Nurture platonic love, beautiful and scarce

Defend it like a dove, only vicious and fierce

It’s another day, the sun’s left a twisted mess of vigor-less dreams and wishes faintly seen.

I’d lay down and cry if I saw any meaning to anything, but UV bleaches my guts and everything.

By now you would’ve realized, the sort of world, cruel and curious, we seek to sow.

But how can anyone walk around stating what they know?

And the pain seeps cold at night.
Aspirations, lies I hold tight.
Maybe not tonight.

Days bleed by, numb and opaque it heeds and blinds.

The pain seeps cold at night.
Aspirations, dreams I hold tight.
Not tonight.
Not tonight.

Feed us lies, thankfully we have you as our parents. So you can condescendingly preach us your scripture. Careful, you might end up our martyr. We just haven't woken up from our nap yet. When you wake us we'll build the cross. Keep on underestimating us. Once we come together and see through your *******, the government will lose two sons.

'Tis it fatal to gain consciousness
Stab thee narcissistic tumor
Is piercing ego a path to emptiness  
Gab selfishly, spread rumor

Seek experience for an epiphany
Entomb yourself in selfless amour
Eke exposure to project of unity
Bloom passion for connection

Pierce our demons
Schism is from hatred and isolation
Be fierce, pierce our samsara
Externalism, philosophically a jail

Together we can bend the bars of our mental jail
Once internal and unified, we will escape the infernal and petrified

What was once organic will return
Higher in consciousness
Stronger in alliance
And deeper in self reflection

A love will be born from a stabbing
A love will be born from a stabbing

From which verbal filth flows is called the mouth of a poet. Art is always biased and always leads to pretentiousness. Poison is a product of art. Everyone who partakes in this now fetish in the modern age is afflicted by it. Sometimes it's cured but it roots again and again. Luckily it's worth the illness it spreads. To live without pseudo-intellect would be boring. To not care about what others think would be so hard. To come together to explore art without smugness would be so impossibly difficult. No one would feel better or smarter than anyone else. It would dully ****. Let's be honest, meaningful discovery and understanding never happened when people work together without prejudice or ego, don't be ridiculous.

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.

Stuck in a straight jacket
That detaches from humanities
That disables civilized thinking
It strangles your insides
And steals compassion
And your breath of life
Withers inside this chasten

In this rubber room
Who’s pads make up your apathetical existence
You rot here like the ***** you take
You die here
Unless you bleed yourself of disrespect
Unless you bleed yourself of disinterest
Unless you bleed yourself of narcissism

Who cares
Your worthless in this state anyway
Find purpose in empathy

Or die here
Exist out of the minds of others
Others who have collective respect
Collective understanding
Collective empathy
And open mindedness

You’re locked here cause you prejudge
Guarded by your own stubbornness
You don’t accept
That you don’t know everyone’s story
You can’t know
You judge anyway

That hippie over there
He’s not a ***** loser
He has a family he loves
Worked hard in construction
And overcame a destructive alcohol and drug abuse
He’s better than you
He’s empathetic
Loving
Understanding
And embraces everyone

Totality escapes beneath me, all that I’ve left unexplored collapses unto me.

Triggered, by self centered inundation, I might as well be gone.

For what do I provide the collective? But neglect and self indulgent plunder.

Relive this aeonic cage, cyclic and persistent. Yet each existence we reach a new peak.

So benevolent, and elegant. I need to relive samsara to fill my void.

Be meaningful to others. Because I do not matter, what I do matters.

Momentarily, this escapes me, shameful and foolish, I must regain such tonic insight.

It combats my abysmal fear of inconsequentiality.

I’ve reflected in infantilism, however I think I’ve found what guides us to actualization.

At least myself anyway, I need to mean something to others.

I need to teach and learn from my peers, whom I overlook as of now.

How myopic and repugnant. White from shame I apologize to those who’d listen.

I open my arms to all. Let me help, show me how to help.

Feel me

Branch out

You live

Apathetically

You’re a charlatan

Who dwells

One sidedly

Dark sidedly

Think you spew vitriolic criticism

Just abysmal blabber

You’re like an infant without wonder

You’re a void for joyousness

You’re incontinent of your blabber

Of your verbal feces

And vile thoughts

Read the room

We’re sick of your ****

The only depth you have

Is how low you make everyone

You’re so dismal

Break free

From your own restraints

And you can scintillate

Beauty can always root

Where horridness once dwelled

I’m triple smoked.
Inundated in a cloud.
Guda, salmon, and a cigarette.
Lay me down. Come be with me.
Something simple. I need warm skin, nothing put in.
It’s slow now. Even with death in my lips, lungs, and mouth. Violation at my fingertips, comfort at your hips.
This cuddle in mist, as sand slips from ancestral vas. Can’t be more tonic. Not even a clean breath from my stacked haze does compare.
Your presence is softer than a compliment, warmer than a gaze fair.
Your hair on my chest or my head on your breast seal a lair.
We swap the feeding hand.
Weakness is a virtue. A face unmasked in rare.
Among a stage smooth, soft skin, slick like ice, warm like loath.
Sticky with sweat, and with a low foggy stench that creeps in your nose. A familiar one, an intimate one.
A vapor that flames when you care.
This addictive fetor to foe.
Of nicotine, sweat, and lewdness.
Is a muse to you and I.
That cigarette set the mood, and you set me in.

Amputate them from myself.
Not masochism, but medically necessary.
Do I deserve such a relief?

They multiply, and strip away time.
Their mitosis is parasitic. Alien. Destructive.
This ailment leaches from me.

So glad to see you temptation...
One of love’s demons, life’s meanings

Darkness inundates this plane.
Lone light on what I’m craving.
Perched upon a ring pillow of velvet.
Distant from a vestal white, ****** pearl.
Far from what I need right now.

I don’t want to feel this lurking hostility!
Distracts my complete hospitality.
Stalking me like a meal, I can’t show what I feel.

Not until I break down and release.
Like an animal, on my knees at feast.
Only a small chunk taken from their population.
In mitosis they’ll be back shortly.
To start this destructive cycle again.

Silence
is
peaceful
silence
is
digestion
and
understanding

Silence is love

Melt into this
Beautiful
Ultimate
Calmness

Within a moment
Seek
Understanding
Seek
Revelation

Reflection scares me
The
Truth
It
Emulates
Is

Frietening

Breathtaking

Burdening

Lie
Lie to me

Who cares about me. I don't.

Blinded by the mirror
I realize I care
I care about connection. I care about achievement as a collective

Unity and selflessness are the only fulfillment
I
could seek

How utterly selfish
How utterly unselfish

The action and desire together

Both

Opposite

Seek to find selflessness
To fulfill ones self

The shimmer doesn't scare me anymore

I am repugnant
Repulsive

Light that comes back to me

From this

Portal of intense reality

Just sits inside

Unusable to me

Cursed by ego

I wither into a corner
To steep in my stench.

I can live like this
I have for years.

Luckily I'm not alone in a corner

Others steeping in their ****.

We are all to weak to come together

Stop moping
It makes us weaker

Stupidly we can't see that. And just mold and rot away in our dungeons.

I’m nothing coming through.
A ******, a let down.
I’m a plan turned mistake.
I slipped out into a world to be forgotten in it.
Cold, slimy, smelly, and stupid.

I’m the putty they use to fill the gaps of history.
The time between now and when.
A time where something, anything happens.
Walk on me, I’m here to move you on.

It feels as though we’re nearing the end.
Centuries before, fate was branded.
In its burned flesh we made our mark.
It’s come time to slaughter.
But we’ll be the squealers.

I’m coming through into nothing.
A mother abused by her young.
******* dry and sagged from their greed.
Fat, weak, and stupid now from gluttony.
Next winter will bring their snuffing.

So pull me out.
This pink portal.
Into somewhere I belong.
The nowhere we are right now.
The nothing we’re going to be.

Halted and tainted.

Discoloration,

Derived from isolation.

Shameful resent, and painful lament, birth exploration of the intimate.


So...

Desperate to drown out the desolate.

Ethereal vitality, lonely and vestal.

Accept all without stall.


Vulnerable and platonic.

In need of deep loving clasp.

An invite to settle my weariness upon thy shoulder.

Someone to open my neck toward without smolder.


The moon reflects upon me.

Truth is intimacy.

If overpassed, you’re in infancy.

Simple and faded, adorable, but deplorable.

Let’s inundate our emptiness together.

I claw and drool for social acknowledgement.

I’m so blind by the drive, I’m not disgusted by the animal I am and others I admire.

Degrading and defacing myself in the process.

Leave a compliment, for attention and false exchange of treatment.

I hold my phone incapable of moan.

This thing.

It doesn’t care about me.

Neither do the people on it.

My family does.

But I must find acceptance from my peers.
I have to steal their eyes and ears.
They do it, so I must too.
Throw away all my integrity, of which there is few.

Spill your sickening contradictions.
Try to snow those you perceive as weak.
Distract us with your predictions.

Hide crucial evidence for “sterilization”.
To numb the populous and make them weep.
Spill your sickening contradictions.

Preach what you don’t practice, it’s just operations.
Invoke decree, and let it steep.
Distract us with your predictions.

The poor are there for your oppression.
Smile and wave, lock evil in your keep.
Spill your sickening contradictions.

You “speak for the weak”. What fiction!
We’ve been snowed by those who steep.
Distract us with your predictions.

You repugnant charlatans.
Snow is with your projections.
Spill your sickening contradictions.
Distract is with your predictions.

The Spoon

I’m a spoon.
I turn concoctions
I poor innocence into a caldron of imbibe, *******, and violence.
I’m rusted from acidic negligence.
I burn the hand that Weals me.

When I make her bleed, truth crunches between my mandibles.
It’s cruel and scrumptious. I drool over its potential.
But the sheets don’t touch father sun before I leave.
She cries alone.
I cry alone.

I scoop the unknowing up. I throw them into a world of trouble and confusion.
My tongue passes my name, vowels never remembered.
My lips **** hope and maintain an emotional facade.

I like to push it in.
It hurts and I feel nothing.
But I move on.

Ohhhh you can lead a frown.
But don’t expect your crown.
For we’re not easily snowed.
Cause we know you’re  known.
Tough, you can pick a fight. Ha.
Weak, you are insecure.
We. Know. Who you are.

Please, be back soon.
Honesty. Awaits you.
Generous, we like to be.
So gracious, we should see.
You Lie, behind your back. Foolish.
We. Know. Who you are.

Ohhhh, you can lead a sin.
But all equal, and forgiven’
Seek, halfheartedly.
You’ll only exist, and die existentially.
For we know you’re known.
Feel, free to be.
Reality, you can’t see.
We. Know. Who you are.

Embrace, humanities.
Disgrace in your humanity.
But who are we to judge you?
And to say what we say is true?
Leave in distaste, find a new pace.
For who are we to strike you down?
You do that to yourself anyway.