the spiders crawl out of my mouth
and over my skin
and into my ****
and back out of my mouth
to sing again.

this is a ******* waiting room.

their spaceships
are beautiful.

they come by
and cut off
all your friends heads.

i use spiders as weapons
to **** me
so you
cant have the glory
of defeating
your opponent.

its the glory you want
but i give it
to the spiders.

they deserve it,

theyre good to me.

you tried a neat trick
and fell
and were caught
by the safety net
which cut you
into little squares
which rained down
on the gaping crowd
and crushed their soft
dumb skulls
and got caught
in the backs
of their
gaping
stupid
mouths
and choked them.

i watch the video
of my suicide

over and over.

the dryer
is screaming.
its teeth
are gleaming
red.

the washer
is dead.