Blank page
soon to be filled
with
all heart
needles in each cell
burning in all
muscles
sleep in all eyes
testament to having
all given up already
cliché
action of morbid
sadism
this place, *******
that place, worse
“Nothing will change when you get there.”
People don't.
Places don't.
High buildings,
they are not sails.
To distant lands
where everyone is in love
and time is perfect.

Instead.

It's gutters, toxic.
It's sewers, pollution.
It's ******, it's *****,
It's an emetic given ******,
as one force fed ****.
It's lonely.
It's alone.
It's time.
It's empty.



________________


­
It's loveless, callous, wrong, degenerate.
Empty,
empty,
empty, again and again.

No these buildings only
house the soulless vessels
of dead.

They are death.
The lights.
They are the city dying.
The skyline.

A skeleton.

Bleeding out
the last
blood in
it's marrow.

The City is dead.

I wandered in on a world of dead rock. I laid with it. Smelt the essence together with carbon and metallic lifelessness.
To create a place of pretty. A sadness overcame.
I came to feeling. To knowing. Sentient.

A rootless contusion never ending.
A bottomless chasm of void.
The pit follows deeper and deeper it travels,
To the hollows of sorrow contempt I’m born.

I grow to feet from the ground where I lay,
As my body draped the floor sprawling and loose.
Upon these legs I rise, and so rise my eyes.
The hollow void I have lingers yawing in my stomach. Ulcerating my mucosal cavern.

What I see
Before me
On this road
On this desert of the necropolis:

Metropolis mass grave,
A mausoleum for civilization,
Möbius of war.
The reflective glint in my eye was of no mans eyes at all.
The death of hope.

Sea of sky scraping spires.
The dead hollow bones left after a city extinguishes.
Millions of towers with red glowing eyes, where blue life used to flourish, now twinkle in and out of this plane.
These giants graze, on the concrete and sway...with the wind.
Colossus of marble, petrified forever in granite with the internal flora that haunted their bowels.
They now have no agenda...city percolates to extinction.
They will forever amble with no purpose.

Once they housed the hearts and minds of microbes that built them.
The builders of hero worship.
They died in the 20's.
Left are the shells of a dream and a forest of buildings.
New York died circa 1900.
United States crumbles: 1776

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.

I'm melting
Icicles crashing
snow fashioned animals
melting from beneath

melting
this ice carousel
******* breaking
cant you hear hear me

I shall hibernate in the eyes of winter. Torpor in the wake of fall.
Crucify the image i made of you
Mount corpus delecti Ensconce The carcass on my ceiling wall

I’m reminded now of that creature when i sleep or i wake
I need this stone of guilt wound around my vertebrae
So it hangs so it hangs so it sways with the weather vane
So it hangs so it hangs
So it slowly brings feelings again

We need this Contrition On the roof of our eyelids
To the struts of our mouth guilt through your body infest

Every nook and cranny

I crush all these blown glass animals. They all try and creep to my brain hiding in the amygdala
Take shards of them
Ingest them
Carve your likeness in my arms

No beat can hit me hard enough
No stone breaking bones could slough
How this carnival creature menagerie
Has destroyed all my self conscious stockpile
Esteem was a book that sold millions of copies and mine burnt up
The firemen. Came and disintegrate the pages in a pile a mass grave of individual triumph

Carousels destroy childhood

Holding hands destroys manhood
Just when you think you can finally stomach the ride
Those fingers course up your arm down your throat and pull out your insides

The winter Air hangs so crisp and i wish to hang in it
and wisp with the ether.
Drown in the calm. asphyxiate on the atmosphere
As submersed in photons that provide little heat to the overwhelming bleak

The grass is gone. All the water fell from the roots or left from its ceiling to the stratosphere
The vapor hangs around me. Suspended with me
But with lightness
Not weighted and tugged but stagnant as these sun rays. And the light wind breeze pushes me slightly too and fro
I'm like a twig in the wind with sails of leaves
But there's no spark in me. And the birds are the only ones who know. The contemplation has ended and i'm now just a temple of carbon and still blood.

The mocking birds mouth is as still as the tree.

Troglodytism. get betwixt thy cave **** rats. amass!!! beyond the wooded canvas of life.
and lay beside thy corpse of agony
in the pits of all foul'd demon beknownst to thou's angst.

there lay the chalice of life.
Oh to lay in the darkness'
o' to bask in the decadence of no light.

Anti heat
forth go ye unto distraction.
To over sensual
to photopic cancer
all bio centric failure that reveals itself in the concord of vestige

only one

only one who's skin, brines to salt. Only one who's writhed on the depth of the cave
sub terrain.
Becoming convoluted
with ulcers. In the brain.
Stomach
esophagus.
Till veins squelch the blood from oxygen as gills. Sea water.
till muscle over sinews, Myomeres.
till acts of mycotic deprecations elude your own grey. Destruction.
And sap what is left
the bends corrode all health.
You eek out a full metabolism.
You finish all hopes with each loathsome meal intake.
death.

Oysters take over.
They create their home
shell of man.
Disabled to a merman, made, morose.
Barnacles infest recesses,
chasms that held mountains of bountiful moral.
Filled till bursting in the case fit for a brain,
but these ocean vermin walk the tightropes of this goblins neural bag.
Tearing each synapse.
Like the innards of a necrotic recluse.

I am the dying vagabond of the ocean.
Finally succumbing to its ethereal pitch covered floor,
where no reflections mourn for me
and ghost wail me no remorse,
as I metamorphose.
Into, detritus.

I trache myself to scream out blood,
To make sure you felt what i said and understood,
Cut open my throat so you can see my voice,
Through cords that shake your core,
Wanting vibration avoidance.

Desiccated hands try to grab your hair and break it,
Like brittle crystals of sucrose.
Each molecule overcame with freezing
From the spatial distance in each look

No matter how hard i try and comfort your heart
Malady wins.
It corrodes your engine and your metabolism begins to fade.

You're frozen in dying
For the rest of time
And I can do nothing to change it.
Its the roots in your heart that i just cant **** out
Heart worms in a dying dog.
Heaving each breath
This is the end of fondness
This is suicide of emotion
Killing echoes of every beautiful girl you gave a **** about.


My voice cant get through the air to you

My blood cant paint on your face

My hands fall apart before they caress and love just withers away like a dead, once verdant chrysanthemum.

Suspended by eyelets, over delicate violets,
in the coat closet above my grave.
The marionette, of skeletons wrist,
layer together like clothes neatly hanging.
We divide up our lives, into green, pinks, and whites,
like my sixth grade best friends wardrobe hung.
But the guilt below our silk, displace dirt as earth spills,
keeps us nailed to pineboxes we dug.

Skeletons in our closet
While the parade of tendons follow bones.

Muscles drag our bodies, while our loved ones place our grave stones

The doors shut but we are digging
Our way out of this dirt

Clenching our ribs our femurs out hips
This basement emotions mirth

Collapse, dig down below the cave bottom trove
Of eyelids hung open starring at our motion while we try to gather our home

We put together skin to make us look better we staple our eyes opened up
Tie our veins back in to our circulation, inervate our brains to our thumbs

Piecing together after death has weathered our body's to frail specks of ****
The vultures can eat us but put back the pieces scab ourselves back together with dust

I've said too much, I've lost my head, I've given up
I have nothing left.

The parchment paper rips down your throat.
As you tear your voice down every note,
The word “ihateyou”
**** every song.
A chill in the ear is a bell tones throng.

Believe that somethings wrong, cuz it ******* is! Believe that you're in love, cuz you're a ******* kid!

You cannot hold onto,
Stuffed blankets and pillows,
Live by a matchbook,
Head next to the gallows,
The heat from a sun has now died with the billows.
No air or ox-y-gen is capable resuscitation,
To stoke up this flame from dead coals in this bastion,
Each illusion is frozen by the heat ******* electron.
Division/deviation from a path that I abandon.
The futile, failure, falling to the knees view of a god that I do not cling to.

This songs about existence,
The pain in a distance,
Reminiscent,
Of a horizon,
Built on grandeur and heart omissions.
****** by a necropolis,
Of soul stealing black hole mouths.
Forgotten by its maker,
When the heartless chopped him to the ground,
Fraught with false oaths.

Suburbia disintegrates to ash and leaking gouache.

Bleed out.
Bleed out.
Bleed out.