I like it when people stare at me
now
They make me happy
now
they gawk, Speculate
Probably even think about me when they leave.
Maybe at home
in their beds, next to their wives
Husbands
i may stand next to their children in their minds
in a sequence of constant banter about all things that happen
day to day
especially that day
I just sit and look up this
over contrasted
over saturated
array of photons
beaming my own image into a reflected
discombobulated
over exaggerated
caricature of what they
see
im not even there
i am perception
eating a burrito
with symbols and
fake hands throat and heart
merely concept in construct

a castle of light with no
windows to shine to humanity
although...
they wont know that.
i.construct.

This giant tyrant Moloch, of epic proportions, ******* the life of everybody.
Galaxies crumble before it's feet.
The voice of hopes ****** from lungs, by a machine.
Anti heart/lung decree, fathomed, exonerated by release.

Singing, pleading, saying.

Come now breakdown and you'll cry,
Come now breakdown and you'll cry,
Come now breakdown and you'll cry,
Come now break down, break down.

no, longer the sun, a blacked out cosmos devoid of heat,
filled with sorrows where feeling meet.

A destroyed colossus, of a world, dead to the core,
Destroyed, employed by death and set to gore,
The eyes of saviors, one by one.
Set to resolve the travesties,
On free exploits of dreams,
And of beauty.

So come all ye faithful, joyful, and destructed,
Consumed, detached, disrupted,
And made up to believe, that we all have rights to succeed.

Amputated laced with vines, holding all that's left inside,
Of your minds erased, infused with lies,
Pressures meant to defeat, to defeat.

To defeat the cultivating mind, encapsulated behind closed eyes ****** in by,
The winds of black holes, called leaders,
And social servants guided by light, disguised by heavy eyes.

I hate the tenements.
The ***** consumed in vast amounts,
Vague visions not in pretty eyes,
But tortured ****** up howling nights.

We wont be destroyed, roaches of the earth, a life inside fires pyre,
No in distress, in detest, and duress.

This place must be cursed, but we won't be detained.
We are the dust of the earth, resurrected to destroy.

This souls is excrement.
This souls consumed.

I watch each of them eat
i watch each of them drink
i watch them all sink
i watch them sleep away
while walking,

zombie,
with the same placid easy
expression
ornamenting their face, handing chandelier face paint

a sconce on a wall i am
or in a chair
as they ensconce themselves into another job
another school another group

talk, about, important ****!
like a book
a clothes piece
a hair dye
clouds
universe
opening wide

revealing a void of absence
this makes me not closed
no closure

i want all their minds
to be present, i want

a
few people, around me.

they're stumbling off a plank of, mind, intellectual existence into

an ocean of jobs cars new ethics and things they wont get.
i'm trying to jump out of a swimming pool of truth,

out of,
existence.

Everything is gnawing like what you gnawed on last night,
Salmonella, Desdemona, E. coli', which plight.
Wanting to exhale yet holding on to breath,
diaphragms help gag and heave but no relief is let.

rib cage throat and mouth expand.
but nothing works quit like fingered hands.
sightly stroking epiglottil muscle.
tightly choking back the particles
.
to live to release
to mutually be
just go back to sleep
no time for sick bees

cant enjoy the flowers
while you sit in the honey.

I hold the passion in my heart of a million brimstone suns.
The sadness in my gait of the death of ten thousand dearest loved ones.

I cant eat, I cant breathe, my voice warps when i speak.
My breaths are shallow like hospice lungs, wishing for cemetery gates.

The look in our eyes of an infinity of reflections, glinting in the sun, coupling the teeth in the gears of our irises.
These few hour dances are a romances suicide.
Each goodbye cleaves a piece of my heart, it convulses.

The cells in my stomach rot without your glare.
The muscles grow weak and atrophy without the want to continue living not breathing your air.

No temporal thing can be enough.
No trinket can replace your presence.
No matter how hard I hold it.
It's not your fingers. Its not your nails.

If our hands could touch,
life would end for everyone from a river of blood that would pour from my finger tips where i chew to let my love out.

If my heart was exhumed I wish you keep it with you.
If my body rest inside a tomb, i wish you lay this vessel in your womb.

The sands of the ground will wither to dust. Earth will be swallowed whole by the sun. My body shall be piecemealed to various molecules in the universe. But our time my love. Our information. Our imprint. Will be an everlasting curse.

Family’s just.
An empty word.
Evokes no meaning.

Just spelled letters.
Cursive cursed.
No meaning to me.

It makes me sad,
Other people have,
Something I cant stab at,
Real hugs when things go bad,

From some one you care about.

I lost my home.
When I was 5 years old.
Became complacent and detached.

From gene.
Sharing people.
Like.
My dad.

I was supposed to be.
like them.
Instead I'm the way.
I am.

Holding no golden fleece.
Just a mind with ideas.
Released to them.
No meaning.

Holiday days are the worst.
I cant hold their hands and for sure not my words.
The only time I feel anxieties with them.
They ask me how I am I ask them how they can't.

Feel, what, I, feel.

We aren't a family.
We are just guilt.
Guilt to love, people, you hate.

And go to their funerals, buy them presents,
And,
Bring flowers, to their graves.


But I don't want.

To love them now.

They forgot me growing up.

Now my homes burnt down.

I'm driving miles, counting smiles, in the aisles, of the road.
In the forms of cracks, dips, and traps, where millions have drove.

I'm crouching, pouncing, dipping, dodging, frothing, lunging, from this load.
The grief strikes nails, through pails, that hold my appetites trails.

As it falls like sand, through the tin, of the can receptacle of this man.
This stomachs a trick as the food softly slips through nicks in the net of the canvas of this bed

I cannot eat,
Sleep,
Feed,
Or drink.

I cannot want,
Gain,
Deflect,
The pain

My hungers a mountain i cannot climb,
Now its a grave i dig named "mine"
I own up to my own grief, its the chief of my beliefs.
Hold my throat to the sheers, cut close to veins my dear.
For i deserve where i lay, in the streets, or in the bay,
And my death will be on loan, i will own up to these bones.
I have created this devil in my eyes.
The mirror death mirage.

I shouldn't open up my cage
And let my voice out.