I am unsure if we are ever free, if we ever truly know something that doesn’t feel like life

My feathers have become much weaker, and my age seems to be my foe

This shroud of dread, that rains acid across the green and gravel

The air becomes thick with fog, and I feel that quivering sickness again

the leviathan sheds its skin again, they form mountains of decay and rot

the ground around becomes poison, seeping into the waters around

the moth flies towards the flame, not knowing of the fate it has

i throw my body into the grey, hoping to find myself somewhere else

the leviathan begins to scream aloud, and the sky begins to bleed

i hold my breath in primal fear, unsure of what will become

A body exhausted, full of dead bodies of former selves
Sunken blackened eyes, deep wrinkles in the forhead
Hands that shake and hum, with no true stop
A voice that is weak, fatigued at the mere action of speaking

It is a trial of pain, that it has to go through
No sense of peace or content, only dread and struggle
Wandering aimlessly in a fog
With no hope of finding direction

Is this the fate we all share?
This connective tissue of the human condition
All that we are born to do, is simply exist
With no real hope or happiness

I do not wish to believe that to be so
But, as these days grow longer
And my will loses more and more petals
I am unsure that I can see the better angels

The vast shadows, that cross along the body of a doe
Five legs that sink into the snow, hooves that are breaking
The cabin above the tree line, in this valley of dead pines
A solemn gaze upon a world that is sick and diseased

What we face in our lives, is the mistakes we are too afraid to acknowledge

The hanging moss of our weeping limbs, hanging in bitter contempt of itself

That wishes to find salvation from within, but only sees an abyss

Here is our true tragedy, that keeps our skin grey with the thought of loss

The soft piano tears of a bar, the somber lights dancing amongst dark suits and teary hands
The presence of loneliness, the cusp of joy; always lingering on the neon angels
How so many are lost, yet are in the same place
How they are so alone, yet they are around one another

The restrooms a bleak smile, as someone goes to approach
Hands held in prayer, on tables of wood as old as the crucifix of Christ
As the evening battles the sun, to smother it into the abyss
Bodies with heat, yet no one seems to be living

And if lord knows best, that are lives are chaotic
Then this place is the calm in the storm
But not a peaceful calm, an encumbering calm
Where the screams stop, but the echoes still ring loudly

With lights dim as assassinated blood, the fog of confusion and doubt
Fills the space with a ghost, that haunts all within it
But lord knows, that wishes want to be granted
That shooting stars want to be real

How soft that world felt
It was something very different
No meandering in darkness
Just walking among the sunlight

But it was only temporary
It was never to last
And with my heavy eyes
I stared at a sun

Nights where no sleep occurs, oscillating nightmare drips across my eyes

A dinner consisted of two Jumbo Push Pops and lukewarm orange soda

As these walls begin to make more sense, I grow more terrified

The lamps knitting scarves and gloves for me, to survive these harsh cold slumbers

Growing out of my fingernails bark, each day I measure the progress

Soon the sheets will swallow me, and trim will skin be close to salvation in wolfs pelt

That take flight through the flight gates between the fingers
Flying to the destinational end, where hope and sorrow sit tandum in somber stare
With clashing hopes and dreams, against the head of the moment

How fast can the moment lose control?
It seems that answer will find oxygen in the coming minutes
With scotch tape bandages across the breast plate
Stopping the black bleeding wounds from exhausting the moment

Soon the world will swallow the light, and the titans will slumber
The cusp of reality will bleed into the bleakness of rain on asphalt
The moment will not know what to do then, how to go forward
It seems that the moment has passed, and it has missed its chance

How much longer can this last?      Days of pleasure and cheap instant noodles


No hope in the progress of the mind
Only the self satisfaction of mental hubris and the pedantic hedonism that

reigns supreme
                                                   Can this last any longer?
I don’t see light in this life
As I sit in the home of my mother and father, wondering what
could have been

Maybe there isn’t peace,    

              and life is the illusion of the fantasy we create
How could this go on any longer?


Am I still seen as human?                Or just the pawns of the same hedonistic indulgences

Bind your dreams to your wrist
Because in the whirlwind
Of social gatherings
Filled with too much alcohol

Can they fly away
Become a paper plane
That glides softly out into the air
Into the dark ether of the night

And once the drugs are gone
And reality comes back
To look in the mirror
See that they’re gone

Hold your hands in mine,
As the sun becomes engulfed

In the mouth of the bleeding
Dove, cooing in desperation

As the world grows darker
And dim, with hate and fear

The final moments lasting somber,
Lingering as cuts uncleaned

The ones lost, were never looked for
They were only stories, only emotions
For people to cry their crocodile tears
And exaggerate their empathy

The ones lost had names
And they will be lost in time
For we do not care to remember them
Only enjoy the drug of outcry

Our ****** is outrage and feigned sympathy
We thrive off our own egos, and the passion
Of our virtue signaling, but when it comes to
These lost ones lives, we could care less

For we are not a nation united
We are a nation selfish
A nation built on ego and self preservation
And will sooner let someone be lost forever

Then have to for a moment, actually be human

Born into darkness, a space of flashing consuming orbs in the outer rims

Of this sliver of cosmic abhorrent existences

Crashing against young minds with no sense of empathy or care

Filling those innocent souls with jaded sighs and black streaked blood

Never a chance they had, to see the world through a brighter scope

Only the reality of a concrete road littered with trash and dead rodents

Those that can remain true and pure

In the face of grey streaked knife wounds

Inflicted by the malignant invisible hand of this society

Are saints in their own honor

I hope I find that tree

Supposedly made of life and prosperity

Weeping limbs of xanax hazy tears

Washing down in the sutures of my skull

When the breath is heavy like a fog, the hard part is seeing

Feet won’t move, no matter the strength being used

Teeth being cracked by the tension

All of it becoming lost to time

Matter and then ash

Then ash to the winds

grey skies sing hymnals of the morning arisen
the faint sounds of the crows caw, within the limbs of the pine titan

each drop of the rain elixir, painting across the window pane
washing away the yesterday full of dread and sorrow

if only the skies could open and take me away, from the world of chaos i am chained to

my flesh is tearing away from my bones, and my mind is telling me my heart chambers

can’t keep yearning anymore, and the grey skies are the background static

if that anger was all consuming
that bitterness truly all decaying
then i must be quite the delayed
supernova, a mistake for a mistak

I am a scavenging animal*

An emaciated coyote with ****** flesh

And worn yellow eyes



They say, your life isn’t so sad

              Your family isn’t that bad

You aren’t their envy and blame

               They always treat you equally and sane

You are just pissy and whinging along

                You should just cheer up, listen to a song



if ignorance was currency I could feed my bloated stomach

       For every individual seems to give me a deposit

              My nails are cracked and brown with dirt and blood

And my eyes sting from the lack of hydration



My poverty my only identity

The moaning of others, overlaps my own crying

My happiness locked away somewhere in my chest

And I can’t ever open it



Seeing others glide along so easily

                    And every step I take I get weaker and weaker

My friends all but long gone

                       They didn’t want to deal with a ****** face



So I am wandering for hope

In burning cars and empty trash cans

            Wishing that the sky above

               Would swallow me whole



                                

                                     *And away into another existence

How I am walking with no radials, latched with leeches and gasping with blood filled lungs

Each act more desperate then the first, and tears become salt mines to the earth

I am certain the buzzards sing me melodies, they are the only true friends I’ve ever had

My burial will be the apex of cosmic certainty, the reaffirmation of the truths of astral fate

That we are all specs of matter floating in an abyss, filled with such beautiful stars and constellations

it’s hard to find purpose, in the ocean of anxiety and ibuprofen pm

an existential crisis takes a break in Wednesday while my constituents drown it in social media

my worth is measured by how many circles of darkness are around my eyes

my laziness at my bruised knees and calloused hands always angers the old

i am stuck in between the world of self sabotage and self realization

but that won’t be cause for concern, one more drink should wash those cuts away

all with blood and hearts
desire to have those dreams
naive, caramel sugar dreams
simplistic joy and unchained hope

it is a sorrow dart
to the front of the skull
knowing you are too hardened
to feel even the basic achievement

no one tells you how to soften yourself
back, they only tell you to toughen up
well the most solid concrete
will eventually decay and destroy

we all come to avenues
ones so filled with thorn bushes
like a sea of future scars and pain
and we must traverse each one

no matter what is chosen, that will be the song

the melody that plays as a harp across the fragile chest of the fog

each crow a lone choir

trying to save your soul

every tree a pillar of sense, that you look with an apathetic gaze

these avenues are presented clearly, and yet they are hazy

like a gamble you didn’t make, you are left with the sins of an invisible fate

that has casted you with no fault of yourself, the walk of a lonely element

that will whiter away by the heavy rain, and the long winters

but forward is all you can go, so that is the way

it is a raw deal, a ****** kind of tragic play with no sort of brevity

just those avenues

Thank you, for this life

My arms are weary for reaching to a heaven

That is as close to the earth as the graves and dead pigeons

Close to the coyotes that roam a white trash kingdom

Mothers smoking Camel cigarettes, with the fathers drunk in insecure manhood

Close to the TV static hissing like a snake, hoping that it will bite me to a quick death

Thank you for this fruitful land, of abandoned cars and stickers on bumpers of an idol called Christ

When he returns lets hope he sees this heaven, is better than the one he’s got

Thank you for the calls of the crows, as they sit in pines above homes filled with bruises and emotional crescendos

This land that has this heaven, where the teenage suicide is okay

For they were different, loving the same ***

Every home as stable as the glistening ice on the sun’s smile, crooked with teeth so black

With the hate of one’s own abyss, blaming to the black and brown

What a heaven on earth, with the magnolia’s as supple as the honey of puffy sorrow tears

Thank you for this place, this heaven on earth

You’re existence is a mere caricature to the ones who call you sick

The ones that call you diseased, that call you poisoned

The one that ruining this wholesome way of American life

With food made of slaughtered clones, and a society more obsessed with a new phone then a peoples safety

Yes, you are the one for all this discourse

You’re conversion is the only salvation

To fix this “wholesome” American national

So I make my crown,

From dead leaves and the fogs sorrow

And cast my kingdom

To be among the fallen pines,

And the abandoned animal dens



I do not have wealth

My subjects vast and scattered

My eyes dark as the tree trunks

My teeth as brown as the sap



My hands hold my sword

Made from weeping limbs

That I guide towards a sun

That never seems to set on me



And in this place,

Can I feel this peace

Some illusion of content

A fractured dream of stability

I’ve made
My legs walk
Across this cave
Full of broken wine glass

The stalagmites dripping vermouth
My eyes stinging with poison
Refracted from the shining, glistening slugs
Who sing me morbid harmonic hymns

Words of my demise
My death
Echo in a crescendo
And I can only walk

My nails are rotted

Soon it will be just skin

And I will have to dig my way out

All the way to the bone

The astronaut I wave to you
Pick me up, take me into that void
I sit with my paper and pen
Drawing a map of the stars, deciding where I want to begin
That cosmic heaven, is such a wonder so huge
I wish to explore every thread, disappear into that blackness
So astronaut I wait on my roof, please hurry soon
My nose is cold, my jacket is wearing thin
My heart is beating slowly, and my eyes grow heavy
I do not wish to return, to this world of excess
This material thing
Take me away astronaut, I have my things ready
My bag is light, and my hopes are heavy
But I know that it will be worth
To escape into that void with you
To search every inch, of that great astral plain
To die in wonder, in the deepest black hole
Astronaut I wave to you, my SOS is secured
I am ready for depature, take me to my new home

This world is watching close
Close to your very skin
So much into your eyes
A light very thin

With this doctrine
Do all these heads bow
You only peak up
Knowing you’re not allowed

This world is watching afar
In cities of grey
Waiting for your head
To sleep where you lay

And once the witch is free
And the crows are somber
You and your kind
Won’t exist much longer

On this road, does the black tarnish smell of death
Clasped in tree hands, the clothes of those once organic
In the high tops of the willows, hangs a lonely suicide
The air desolate of any breath, only carbon monoxide clarity

A world that has hung its head, and has eaten all that did not see
Now do beasts roam, filled with acidic humanity
Gnashing teeth at all moving, setting fire to any green
This march of sorrow, has crossed the plains and mountains

From the wes the California skyline, ablaze like a victorian candle; a majestic sight cut with screams
In the northwest, the great  trees fallen in Washington, titans of once something pure

In the the Great Lakes, a pestilence carved out with rib bones
In the south, peanut fields and farmland mere toys to a malicious force
in the Delta, the swamps all gasping for air, choking in silence
In New England, the cities and metropolitan philosophy

A match burnt away in a gale of hatred
On this road, does the ash begin to pile
The cries of help, become ambient noise
And the trembling hands, soon become frozen

My arms begin to grow twigs,

                  my eyes turning to bark

The legs below become hollow trunks,

                                          my mind lessening in reason

I shake the hands, of all the pines
As they see me down the line
The green roads turning beige
My eyes covered in a viscous haze

My heart is setting the table
Inside my chest for the craddle
Of little leeches and mouths to feed
And abandon all my hope and creed

But the trees are looking down
And they sigh with heavy frowns
At the state I am going to end
The bone of my back I’ll bend

But the skies are lavender and blue
And my feet seem to always go through
The thickest mud, the sludge and raptor teeth
While the knife is on my throat, and I hold the sheath

A specter watching by, no advice
With the abyss reading, the mourning concise
As I walk this path alone
Knowing of not any home

Such a fragile moment in time we are, too much caught up in things too below the threshold of reason

We each have a knife to our throats waiting to cut, so we might as well try to be happy

It’s nearly impossible, like seeing the shadows of the fox in a foggy forest

But try we must, and give that knife a bite from our teeth, and spit at its holder

I can hear the coo of the morning dove, echo in the sunlight

Refracting against the dew of green tombs and graves

It searches for its lost love, in such desperation

In my sadness I hope it finds that love

The streets are being laced with kerosene, men with limbs made of matches
Begin to walk in a march
The curtains are becoming lighter, ashes to the wind
The cries of those unaware, become a song to the ether
Hands are held tighter, kisses become more sincere
Eyes become more forward, words more clear
The sky is more orange, like a Monet painting
Beautiful, such a sight to admire
As giants of ash topple the buildings
Love becomes more real, more scarce
As lives become lost
The gutters become full
With the breath of lovers
A hush in the chaos

The singing rotted chimeras, of the oozing blood church

Sing their disemboweled hymns, as the somber bell chimes to the dead

Along the pews are dried blood bibles, words of horror and sorrow

Written by men who thought to play God, and reap the values of the meek

As the suicide clocks strike their hands, and the blood soaked ravens take their flight

The blackened sun sets on the streets of acid, and the blissful dread plays as a music box

In the confusion of our ****** escapades, was there any true connection?
Maybe there was, and I wasn’t looking hard enough into your eyes
Those sticky fumblings seemed to be my only thought
I’m starting to think that’s all I wanted, and in those moments I was wrong
A carnal monster I was, filled with my hedonistic whims
And now those memories don’t give me pleasure
They fill my stomach with sickness, such regret that burns
Madness it seems to be, to worry about something so futile
But I think you were trying to love me, and I was just trying to satisfy cravings
You weren’t a person to me in those moments, you were just a meal in my gluttony
And now here I am at bars, repeating my process of hunting
For I am man, the primal beast of the blackened crust
Stuck inside the dreams of ignorance, inside a locked room
And I have the key

The song of the dead, is a most hollow tune

That fixes to the ears, of those coming soon

To the 6 foot kingdom, that lays beneath

The dagger is out, from the marble sheath

Those dancing days, filled with merry and gay ballets

Was a relic of something we were robbed from

Left we are with the rotted waltz

In this eroded ballroom

Filled with bones and human remains

People do not want change, they want complacency
They want the comfort that all the tales of old white men were told to them
That peaceful age of nuclear scare, were the white man was his own
And the colored individual knew their place
We do not want equality, we want safety for all our pretty white sheep
We are wolves that are stained with blood, all across our yellow teeth

I sat on the edge of the rivers mouth, watching the sun set slowly behind the eyes of forever
There in the dusk a pack of coyotes approached me, they asked of my somber state
I said my sorrow was with morality, the thoughts of my death and the dismay of human suffering
One of the coyotes scarred with deep wounds from years of survival, approached me closer
He said I have been from the moutains edge of Appalachia, to the rivers of Savannah
Life is a fragile and cruel thing, our kind knows of the suffering of existing day to day
Life isn't a waterfall, it is the blink at which you do at the waters cascading down
Death is the pool which the water collects, all living things end up there
You must not ponder why, only ponder what to do next
For it will be gone human, as all things go
I merely looked and nodded a heavy sigh
The pack nodded back in unity, and carried on
And I looked back at the sun, disapperaing in the forever
So I took my heavy legs to a step, and walked from the mouth
To the limbs of Oconee, and walked to my place of rest
To ponder my next