i hear you
         why can i not put you into words
sick devil of my mind..
         illuminate my eyes from this void
                  allow me sight, so that i may destroy
what need not be
         hatred is all that fills these lungs
                  anger, disgust, rage, sadness, inequality
                           is all this shell feels.
Unable to think straight any longer
         purple swirls of depressing pills
                  swallowed by the kitchen sink
                           indescribably, carelessness, sentimental, afraid
Irrational phone call phobia, haha
         a desperate attempt to change
                  too useless i feel, ***** when i hear its ill ringtone
                           soulless, discrete, oblivious, fitting in
My minds manifesto to those it cares nothing about,
         why would it, emotionless, senseless obligation to what?
                  social recall of those different, seemingly made to feel in-superior to the elite.

What am i ?
the betrayer; embracing
there lies
his guilt
her shame
          **Understanding nothing with loose lips, creating
the cultist; with
there dignity
his voice
her distress
          My high quality facade is
the shadow; causing
there insanity
his experiment
her instability
          Without care, its eyes fade and voice dims into
the nothing; blaming
there conformity
his understanding
her ambition

When i look at the trees from my back window door,

i watch as the green leaves burst from purple to orange,

screaming in a subtle silence that i can't possible ignore,

creeping and staring at me with devils eyes galore,

wider and wider they grow, haunting my ever soul,

with my back window door mechanically born,

laughing and crawling to me from the outside ground to my living room floor,

that ****** back window door will silence me no more!

in my lonely cage of rage, that horrible back window door,

will be put to the fires,

by my dark love of sinful desire.

When you preserve returned like a time
I want you to breath on my hand
among the dark animosity of the oblivion
the rigid crab weaves in the hidden parallel funerals
lighting the telegraph of her wreath full of tiredness
they forced it with lonely rivers
and meetings of tenacious eyelids
I do not hate in the jungle of weak dominion
the jungle like brick
the angel preserving from my eye
pockets of aluminum converted into golden
went unburned in springtime
confusion and autumn - kisses of embarassement
I do not compound in the thicket of harsh stench
I'd do it for the writing in which you perform
for the cathedrals of deep brown movie you've attracted
pockets of iron converted into glass
in the middle of the inaccessible field of thirsty garden
transparent earth to my dry river.

Plastic Saint,
        Alone without love in the sea of his heart
Waves and ****** with delusions of rain in the night sun,
        Times and ticks away through skys vast soul,
The end has taken control,
        Where only Dreams know of his memories lost and paid in times toll.

See the women walking,
Help her out.

See the poor man starving,
Walk on by.

See the kitten stuck in the tree,
Climb the ladder.

See the wife ugly as can be,
Tell her you hate her.

See the sun rise,
And let your devils do the same.