Are we what we think we are?

Beast…

Human...

Monster…

God…

Do we live in the space of reality, or merely the reailty of a fantasys delusion
Do you hold the serpents tongue? Do your palms seek to destory creation?
Who is the child of Christ, when God is the curve of the Devil’s smile
Do we seek the bliss of human community, or do we wish to merely control what we want?
Are we the true heart of darkness?
Or are we merely the blood pumping that most poison of ruby

I once walked upon the house of god, inside was a fog made of dust
The spiders silk all along the walls, the stale air of times neglect
And I saw a chair at the end of the hall, etched in blood I saw words
Throne it said, and no sign of life was around the house
Only the succumbing feeling of uneasiness, uncertainty
Was this the house of god, or was the just a house, merely a house
Had I found something I was never meant to find

t’s hard, to use the method of escapism to deal with the reality around

For writing, music, games, art, reading, can be mesmerizing to distract

But sometimes it isn’t enough

And you still have to cry into a pillow alone at nights

Though it may sound as melodrama, the harsh reality is it’s true

For many are not lucky to have grown up in good homes

To have had loving and caring parents

That pain sits like a razorblade pillar in your stomach

And your tears sting your cheeks like saltwater acid

Then you have to muster up strength, and keep your hopes on an even level

And for those that are the unfourtunate ones, always know that you are wonderful

And that your cage isn’t permanent

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

Stuck in the wilderness, among the sanctums of green and indigo grandeur

Romulus and Remus are writing along their wills, shaking hands with the forest spirits as they pass by on the thorn covered roads

Crowns of silver being woven by the wrens in the willows, transmuting their echoes to blistered esteems

Among these wrecked ships, that naval graveyard whispering ink patches to sandpaper cathedrals

These things set in, among green woods with creatures looking on, as the sun sets upon the world

Is your hate for fat individuals truly so? Or are you merely expelling what hate you have for yourself

Why does their happiness upset you so? Is this because you envy what they have? Or are trying to get?

For I know they are fully aware of themselves, is it really about their health? Or is it just… Sorrow of the self

There’s always a still, before you take to sleep

When the mind goes blank, and you grasp the lonliness

And you feel the weight of the world, for a moment

And you can feel the collapse, in your lungs

Some call it awareness, others call it stress

Maybe it’s just reality

There was fireworks outside the window, the sky looked very pretty in those tapestry colors, what a joyous sight

But that was almost a cruel joke for the moment, as we just sat in silence in this room

The uncertainty of what would progress was a spiders nest in my throat

More echoes from the fireworks was the only sound in that room, it was comforting in a way

Scared for them to disappear, then the silence would just return

Two people, silent, unsure

Uncertain

Sickness is the laces of our words we burn into skins

Meandering like scholars in this play yard of our generational whims

We will soon have to reap what we sowed, in our irony and inactivity

All for the sake of status and hedonistic introspection

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

It's easier to say you're fat and should be ashamed of your lifestyle, then to say I hate your happiness about yourself

Bitterness and hate don't use truth, for then they have to look at themselves for what they are.

This architecture of oppression, will begin to crumble
And will crush us all into pools of maroon, intestines spilled as leaves

In the afternoon sun, a swarm of bees confided in me of the days ahead

They spoke of their deaths in a sorrow and fear, that they knew their lives were set to a fast clock

They told me of their ancient wisdom, how they have been since the days before human

They told me of the pestilence that will arise from their departure, and to take caution in their premonition

We will be to blame for what happens when we leave, they said

But it will be the human ego that starts the fire, and greed will have been the gasoline

Those trees will beging to dry, the animals become famined and dead to you

Take our warning with dread and awareness, for this a future that is sure to happen

Humanity will have been its own destruction

The human will has become proxies

Morbid terracota’s left to their own whims

Once the mind held liberties of peace and progression

Now the flesh is all that resides

It seeks the greed of Jesus, the ignorance of faith

The blood of the innocent, the denial of patriots

It is a program that follows orders

Set by the hivemind that created it

We are not a nation of equal happiness

We are something crueler, something darker

We are a breathing husk, rotting from disease

Self-inflicted from the sins of our elders

Now we pay the devils due, the young and cynically aware

Our agony will not be our triumph

We will await a future

Set aflame

By our parents

Our elders

Our protectors

Our

Humanity

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

Here is were the bodies rot
Under the gravel, under the lot’s
As the sun burns the flesh around
None of those griefs make a sound
So much is the way things can be
Futile and barren, under a willow tree
And the devil sits with tobaco in pipe
And he will leave his mark, at first light

And the sorrowful tears of lose and death
Is a record of our true evil, the darkness we indulge in every day
We liken ourselves to the angels of a desert text, but we are nothing more than animals without impulse
We are simply chemicals of hedonism, and we are blissfully drugged by our own egostistical denial
There is a darkness that permeates through our humanity, and those that try to hide it, enable it even more
There is light in this world, these are not the words of a cynic, only the words of someone tired of hate

There is no true recourse for the evil deeds done in this life
We have conditioned ourselves to block out the dark
And only show that there is light
And while that may help you in your self
It desecrates the pain that is given to those
That are vicitms of this terrible darkness
Our ribcages are sown shut to the truth
Our hearts only beat to the drums of our pleasure
I am no different than what I say, I am me
My exhaustion has reached a peak though, and I can’t seem to stomach much anymore

Another bible must be written
Not one of stories and metaphors
No judgment of hell, or a fear of total control, from something above
But of love for one another, for the light that is in our souls
Of the waters that give us life, were we may all bathe our hearts in community and docility
We are of the same cloth, we are only separated by opinion and hate
This is an action we must undertake if we want to survive
No more of the desert stories, no more of our dark indulgences
We must look to a brighter future, we must make it a brighter future
We must create our path not with bone and blood, but of grass and orchids

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

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

I went to the woods to find me a new bed, to find another vessel to lay my flesh to slumber

I saw a field of orchids, and went to pluck them for my use, but they said they wished to remain there

I went to take a log from it’s resting place, it was rotted and old, but it wished to stay at its grave

I went to take sunflowers to make a colorful bed, but they wished to stay were the sun would rise highest

I went to a bushel of barbs, and they said they were alone and longing, they would be glad to make my bed

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

I stand in a bathtub of oil
I light a match, in slow action
And set it on fire
I go to sit down
And bathe in the flames
To cleanse myself
Of my pasts and regrets
For maybe if I survive
The skin of my former selves
Will have burned off
And I will be something new

My arms begin to grow twigs,

                  my eyes turning to bark

The legs below become hollow trunks,

                                          my mind lessening in reason

How faint the birds chirp, the wind brushed against the grass

My body weak from the walk here, to the hill I expell my stresses

Sitting at the top, looking out to the sea of trees

The birds follow me as I walk, giving me songs to keep my energy

They lower their song to a hum, for they know I enjoy the solitude

How I envy the melody they carry, how natural and gorgeous it is

Looking out with my wishes on my tongue

I speak them to the breeze, so that the wishes may travel

To somewhere else, were they may come true

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

Time is mere dreams, that rewind and loop consistently

Like waves to a beach, endless it becomes

It is a tool we use, to make sense of this chaos

This space we call life, in all its whims and terrors

We progress to a future always unsure, never knowing if the past is really past

Like a stone in focus, sitting on the edge of a riverbank

The water goes on, and yet you seem to stay

As if time has left you, out of the stream of linear dreams

So you dream those looping dreams, for it must be the way we are

Maybe this is the desire, to not have those dreams any more

Or if they were ever dreams, just sins that became something real

The eroded frames of this abandoned home, speak of a time that was once better

The pain in its voice, is sorrowfully apparent, the pain it feels creaks among the window panes

I asked why it seemed to feel this way, it spoke to me and said it was alone in its ways

The trees had begun to strangle their roots among its edges, the wildflowers set their camps on its staircases

The finches set their nests on its faded yellow window stills, the fox making a den from the basment

I sat with the rain pouring down, under the porch roof did I listen to its somber tales

In its decay I saw a dark beauty, a damaged purity that was tranquil in the erosion

How rotten it is, true to see

Is burning bridges, among burning trees

Redact your senses, among this pyre

Will see our ends, in this burning fire

We gave our joy, for selfishness and greed

We developed a bloodlust, a mighty need

We ate the meek, and burned the rest

Now we wait for our rewards, in jest

This is humanity, blanketed with deceit

But it smiles at corruption, and always eats

This machine is burning bones, ever so much

When we lose all the bones, we will lose touch

Humanity smiles, with a bloodied grin

Blaming the innocent for its sin

This is so, this is such

A blood starved beast, lusting for much

he awareness of a broken adolescence, when you know that it has slipped away into the sea

Oh how it becomes

When you look to the roads, and see they aged, cracks among the asphalt and despair in the colors

Oh how it becomes

Looking to your hands, to see how withered they became, to look at your face and see the sunken eyes

To sit in sadness among the lonely ghosts, to swallow of the sorrow of forced adulthood, to have blood seep from your smile

Oh how it becomes

To not deserve the despair of your broken childhood, to not have been the victim of the devils that befell you

It is a depression that truly never leaves, it is a anger that lines the grey of your skull

Oh how it becomes

But it gives a resolving strength, it gives the hide of the rhinos anger
It gives the resilience of rebellion, it gives the determination of future

Oh how it becomes

In the darkness it seemed you lived, how you live in the fog of the past
But you gain light to break it away, to walk with anger to futures of hope

Oh how it becomes

There’s a sad air that resides here, it came when the rain began it’s long spell

It sits with me as a ghost, an old friend that I have forgotten about

It sits with me by candlelight, and watches the flam flicker along with me

Curious it wanders across my room, looking at old relics of happier memories, wondering were it all went

The low hum of the roof being caressed by the rain, it is the only sound I wish to raise my head towards



Outside I look towards the woods, and I see the faint color of faded green

From the slips of my window blinds, I can observe the world with a faint smile

As the night begins to set, the rain is still blessing us with its presence

So I sit with another candlelit moment, as the ghost and I read our stories, to escape the world we breathe in now



Now the morning has come, and I’ve seemed to run out of candles

The ghost weary from its restless slumber, as am I

Another day it seems has come to fruition, another one with the smell of rain

As if the world is on a cycle, or merely my mind has begun to bleed reality, into my own dreams

Oh dear one, how the world has shown its fangs to you

How it has dripped venom on the satin of your joy, how it has eroded away the sunshine of your pride

It has done its best to strike you down, to eat away at the color inside your soul

But you are radiant, like the light of the winter waters, you hold the warmth of a southern spring in your smile

Take the sword that lays in your heart, and draw it with grace and pride

For you are fighter that stands to the darkness around

You are the eighth wonder of the world, you are the reason for many’s happiness

You are dear soul, you are a wonderous soul

You are you

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

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

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

It’s raining glass on these acres of wood, the shards are a magnificent color of onyx and sapphire

It’s as if the winds are conducting an opera, the trees the actors as they become scarred from the shards

The shards lodge themselves in my skin, but I feel no pain, I feel no hurt

As the blackend sun begins to set on these acres, the rays illuminate me, and I shine as the salt among the oceans

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

I’ve come to the apex of a Greek tragedy, the operatic sorrow of this moment is chilling to the skin

How the tears of Dionysus flow as a stream across this granite eclipse, it hardens the marrow inside the bones

This is the sun & moon, waning to the tunes of mythological thoughts, the midnight ringing close

Waiting to see how it ends, if it ever ends

If it ever ends

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

The romance you try to find, in all the little absences that no one seems to be aware of

The lone flower among the sidewalk cracks, the simple rays of light through the leaves

The purity you have to try and look for that, is something to be treasured in a world like this

Never try to give that up for another view, this world is cruel from the skies to the streets

You hold something organic that not many people have, nor too many people appreciate

But you musn’t let that cynical claw break your wings, for you have a pure soul that can help

Even if you don’t think that you can contribute, you are innocently unaware the kindess the world needs from you

You write such beautiful stanzas from the steps you take, the small smiles you give to the sidewalk warriors across the town

From the gentle touch you give the hurt pigeon on the steps, to the small laugh you direct to the mothers child

You have such a grace about you, you hold something purely universal in the fingertip hymns you conduct on those cups of water

You must never lose that joy you have so naturally, for it is infectious to those that see you as something to inspire towards

Magnificent is your speech about the breeze in the afternoon, you talk with an open choir of unapologetic happiness

Somehow you are a living version of a sonnet, a painting that walked away from the ink, and dawned flesh and bone

There’s confusion to try and figure your presence, for you are a candle of vanilla evenings, a soothing bible psalm in the eve of dark

Don’t give up your flower crown for one of thorns, you hold a golden river in the lovely iris of your eyes, an oasis in those freckeled cheeks

Sunshine in this morning can not look as radiant as your exuberant state,

illuminating you are to the day as it washes by on your waltzing beaches

How the atlas ribs seem to map out your inner content, something of the biblical purity, but never do you judge

Only to you help and love in the maelstorm that can arise, a rare type of creature you are, rare and excitingly amazing

All the while it seems to carry on, the wind blows regardless the moments that transpire

The world spins madly on, and the tides still remain on their destined patterns

I stand in idle somber confusion, as the winged dreams of my youthful former, soar to the heavens I don’t believe in

All the while everything moves to a motion, it all follows a pattern, I merely stand in confusion and wonder in sorrow

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

You’re quite the wretch, how you expel sarin and carbon monoxide from your pores

You hide behind an accent book, a holy text to justify your ignorant crusades

Do you think God looks at you with grace? You may accept Jesus, but the son of God doesn’t accept you

You sing Amazing Grace, to instill in yourself grace, but the truth is skin deep

When you condemn people to hell, do you think you’ll ascend to heaven?

What’s truly worse, a supposed life of sin? Or causing pain and sorrow for innocent people?

Here is what is craved, the sensation of seeing the blood, the lifeless flesh of something once person
The blood that seeps from the open head wound, the scattered matter of brain that paints against the ground
Like a lullaby for our apathetic ears, we tune in to the morbid display of death
Look for the pain, in the face that is blown off, can you see the fear?
Only do you see flesh, bloodied flesh, ripped and shredded
Is their satisfaction yet? I hope it can come quick
Was it worth this? Can you appease that fanatic hunger?
Listen to the lullaby we create for you, our electronic, angelic hum
Feed the black claw that reaches from your skin
To touch the corpse of your satisfaction

I wanted another night in the skyline of neon angles, listening to their buzzing and soft humming tunes, the scent of humanity permeating in the air

I wanted to become a coyote, to roam to desolate futures of shattered selves, and despaired youths

To sink my skin in the red clay earth, to grow my leaves to highest reaches of the cosmos, touching the stars with my withered green

To become the darkness of a forgotten structure, to observe the hollow masses that walk around, to become serene in the fire on horizons

I wanted to become songs of forgotten happiness, to take my leave to pools of sorrow, and seep away my mind to the tales of heroics

I wanted to take solemn steps in old Venice, to become the whispering finch among the waters, and sing away what life I used to know

To shed away God's black tears, and jump from the edges of your senses, to the oceans of sand that lay beneath

To run my body through fields of orchids, to feel the wonder of solidarity, to become the scent around in this earth

To scream from the tops of fallen titans, to lay my body to rest on their shoulders, and for a moment feel like one of them

To be Alpha & Omega, to be the riverbed that supports the waters of life, to understand the minds that lay in these rocks

I wanted