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my tongue
could strip you bare

the way the doorslam
and sound of my steps
dissipating

seem to
so effectively
without friendship
we have nothing

no substrate sustainable
nest on fire fallout

we play with matches
kindling tilt hips
but these skins chill
so fast

in the absence
of underlying structure:

woodpyre pyramid ascent
pointing at blackdrop
where fractured lights
dance against

contorting shadowsong
upon crooked wings
They say write everyday.
Put those words to paper before you lose them.

I say.

If your words are lost so easily they were nothing more than a mental **** to begin with.

I say .

Live without writing see the ocean at sunset bask in the existence without giving a single thought of capturing it upon the page.

Don't ever fear losing something for when we fear loss all we do is waste are time that we have.

They say many things all directed at keeping you back.

I say **** them all.

Cause any person worth there salt in this life.
Isn't sitting on there *** handing out advice like some curbside therapist.

Life is the only teacher you ever need.

Just remember advice comes cheap.
And opinions are just like ******* everyone's got one .

Cheers
you mustn't be so impatient my child
our time will come
you know the numbers are limited
we will be leaving soon
I promise you
and the adventure that awaits us
will be beyond our imagination
we will be kings
and they will love us
because we are what they strive to be
but it cannot be rushed
we must move slowly
they will not even realize that we have saved them
and in a thousand years
it will be all ours
as their species fades to relics
now come inside after the earth sets
and just remember
we shall be there
before the next eclipse
an ET fable
 Mar 2017 Andrew Name
Lexander J
Eyes of coal that sparkle in the light
breathing through mucus they hide from sight,
******* the life out of us but their hearts beat dead,
their teeth stained yellow, vile hands stained red

bullet wounds
gun shot holes
maggots and lice thriving
between fleshy folds


disgustingly perfect, attached together with surgical seams
ripping minds open and feasting upon dreams;
Bogeymen of the new age, souls unjust and undone
an obscenity to all even Death does run -

gods sinful monkeys and alien babies
fed with drugs and frothing with rabies
stealing new borns, fresh blood to medicate,
creating new gods to **** upon and hate


the Beautiful People are back and more horrific than ever,
their grotesque masked with wax feathers

masquerading as angels, slyly drawing you in
corrupting your mind with mutilated sin

everything makes sense in a senseless world
sanity insane, torturous, curled


and as I look at their swaying fleshy folds
I fear for humanity, for what the blackened future holds -
incarnadine stained nails, rotted bones, lungs riddled with pus
yes the Beautiful People are abhorrent

*but they're also one of us.
this is how the world ends. it begins.
At the root, lightning gathers moss
and the surge
deepens the horizon's applause.
we die for the cause; bewildered as we choose
to arise, or lift off -
the unearthed
to one
worse -
than the one
we're from.

a loose grain of rice
in the chamber of our starvation,
plump from the tears of our elation
that someday
will be the
Last Day...
and that will be,
an ironic
Occasion.

Because Night will follow.
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