There is 5 feet of snow outside my door.
There are toppled trees
and mangled branches.
There are fires in a distant hellscape and cannibalized flesh juicy to the touch.
There are mothers clutching infants with hollowed out eyes and distended bellies.
There are tongues cut off and thrown into a barrel.
There are leeches clinging to a healthy man.
There's an ape imitating a man and a monkey ******* on a teenager's nub.
There is a pit of food but no forks.
There is a laughing clown but no comedy.
There is a drooling dog and an emaciated cat.
The fountains filter no more and the leaves rustle in the abyss.
No shade, no shelter, no hope. so
I go back
In my room and lay down

If I was to **** myself, it'd surely be today. I feel hollow as an abscessed heart.
This is why there are alcoholics.
This is why children grow into derelicts.
I can't escape the torment which circles my soul, and only the devil consoles me.

Crumpled up and tossed in the garbage, you had no chance

A heart too big and too much care, you had no chance

Feet that only carry you to a grave, you had no chance

Eyes that see only memories tinged with pain and remorse, you had no chance

Childlike wonder and fruitful vision, you had absolutely no chance

I'm gonna start using women like objects, I'm really over it.
I get ghosted by the women I want and who proclaim will "never leave 💕💕💕" and that I'm their "one and only 🥺🖤" Months lost. This is a world of sociopaths, so what's one more snake

I'm getting what I want now

Some dude named "Dust" would always contact her
"Why don't you just block this guy if he's such a nuisance?" I'd say
"He finds ways of contacting me and he keeps bothering me"
"Yeah, but why do you even engage?"
And she would engage working her little thumbs, amused with the dysfunction.
He was a drug user afterall and incredibly manipulative. I'd hear about this guy all the time and how he was supposedly dangerous and had guns. I'd laugh.  I have guns too and am prone to mental instability but I'm not outwardly dramatic in the fashion he is nor do I really make a show.

But alas, a month or two went by and the relationship wasn't working. I wasn't crazy enough
and when that time came she blocked me.
I reached out one time after and there was no response.
Everybody has a choice, she made hers and Dust is still there in her head somewhere.  Don't be a 2nd

I can't feel my toes due to the lack of a circulated hot air system delivering heat within this space.

My breath blows and is visible like Puzuzu

I take out a solid white piece of paper and make a few scribbles.
The names are written and spell out the
people I used to care about , which is about 1 too many

The day is long in its nothing
I sit with a head wide open

The ants torment
the remains of
a little girl in the kitchen

The feathers fall along the trail

The pit is deep and so is the
longing