I rolled up
George Washington's green face
And ****** the world into my nostrils
Feeling the decay
Of lost cities
Run on sentences
Rotting inside
Scarred throats
A bus into the grimy city-
Tires screeching on the road paved in bones

body bags surround me like crop circles.

The saddest part is, I know I'm not going to any of those funerals.
I went to a funeral once, before I had begun.
I don't think I ever left.

The time that's been ordained, are three score years plus ten [1]
Sixty-nine have been fulfilled, the last will soon begin
-
One week of Seven years, will be a cleansing of the earth [2]
"The Time of Jacobs's Troubles", anguish pain and dearth
-
Word War Three is on the way, one hour it will last [3]
Millions millions will be killed, then into Hell they will be cast
-
If your journey into Hell, is postponed a little bit
You will take the Mark, before you're cast into the PIT [4]
-
For one thousand years you'll burn, then you'll stand before the Throne [5]
From the Books you will be judged, you worshiped gods of stone [6]
-
Then you'll be cast alive, into the Lake of Fire [7]
FOREVER there you'll burn, with every other LIER !!!

[1] Dan 9:24
[2] The Book of Revelation
[3] Rev 18:17~19
[4] Rev 14:10
[5] Rev 20:11&12
[6] Ashtaroth (aka "Mary")
[7] Rev 20:15

I sat on the cold hard ground
My tears soft as the velvet cloudless sky
Slowly breathing
Inhaling one star at a time
Trying to light up my mind
Feeling the ice crack within my lungs
Everything is in slow motion
My blood no longer runs like a rapid thundering river
Slowly it seeps through the broken arteries of my heart
So much has changed, I think of how much I have aged
I can feel the invisible demons clawing their way back
I will sigh as I can hardly control them
As they multiply like a virus
They are silently waiting now
Waiting for something
The perfect moment to release their toxins
But for now
I lay on the silent ground
Listening to the earth breath
Allowing the winter night to swallowing me
Nature keeping the demons at bay

I said your name aloud
in the candlelight,
like a small séance
for unrequited love.

I waited for you to haunt me
with your voice and quiet smile,
and felt a ghost of you
brush my cheek.

But when I reached for you
the candles only flickered
and the room was screaming
with unbearable silence.

You look best in my lamp light. Your belly scar
rough underneath my fingertips as I jump the scratch
and attach myself to your hips, kiss your pelvic bone
until even my teeth can taste your sweetness. I can feel
black kettles and the burn from the ironing board crash of 1999.
When we’re wrestling in my duvet covers, the shadows
cast your memories up like a sanctuary projection. I see red race cars,
your brother jumping on the couch, fishing bait kept
in your back pocket. Your lips taste like liquor but I hear nursery rhymes
from when you were little, wobbly, an over-all dream
in the yard seen through the kitchen window. I know,
that you’ve dressed yourself in bad dreams
and broke yourself over footballs and houses of green paper,
but you look best in my lamp light when my hands
cram your face into my palms, your blush dripping
from you cheeks. Because I see the way
you burrow yourself into my chest when you think
I’ve gone to sleep, and I’ve seen the way your foot catches
on the edge of the woodwork right before you fall.

They say that opposites attract but I stopped listening a long time ago
I never knew who was talking anyway and I've never agreed with them
But I think she might be a lot like me and I have nothing to base this on
Aside from the fact that she leaves rooms like a burn victim
If this room is on fire I think its because of the matchbox in her sleeves
Yet I can't prove any of this I haven't even heard her voice
She's a whole new language I don't understand yet
*~W.C.