Tell me there’s a purpose.
No.
A severed head.
The self in departure.
Crossing a river.
Light beams fall through.
There are four walls that make up the emptiness of this room.
throwing throwing throwing throwing throwing throwing throwing throwing
Language writhes.
I fail to find the contours.
Sharp and brittle, like the hop hop sting of minute glass.
pitter patter
arms thrown
out out, out out, out out, out
The word is power, signifier of a real that folds into itself irrevocably, perpetually.
I construct that which I speak, divorcing the imaginary and symbolic with a plunging knife.
God is born in ****** revolt.
Entangled in the penumbra of becoming, I birth the stranger that is myself.
Who are you?
A static noise.
Father breathing snow onto the mountain.
Hair, grey matted, a coarse empty palm.
Tell me the tale of withering.
White abyss.
The bifurcation of light from darkness.
The power of speech split totality from the world.
Purged death in freezing time.
brittle bones
circulation
a shutting door
still air
winter passing
A cool current that stutters like the clap shut of death.
I run but go nowhere.
Child crying in the empty hallway.
I speak the word but no one is there to hear it.
I circulate like blood.
Face pressed to the floor.
I repeat.
The word is power.
Tears staining my cheeks.
I am nothing but a swell.
The empty drone of the earth.

maybe the ground is tilting
i descend
earth dipped in blood
kid eating a candy apple
space all stretched
fuzzed out
light beams round tree limbs
hanging lanterns
i try to speak
density
a million billion stars crushed into a black-
you pick up the jacket and throw it
the cat says bow-wow
bow-wow
bow-
my head a ******* balloon
string tangled like negative space
the moon’s surface
i hate this world

this world is noise
broken ceramic
the head of a pin

sometimes i dream about a pin going through my neck
my head rises like a balloon
and i

if you place your ear against the ground
you can hear the earth hum
it sounds like rushing water
blood

everyone is dying
has died
will die
the greatest predictor of the death sentence is ethnicity
we're been increasing the income gap so our children leave home without shoes or umbrellas or lunches or coats
i hate this world so much i
choke on my worthless privilege
reading research pieces playing
playstation to escape my own existence
i am breaking apart like waves of
radio static on unconscious shores
waiting for the end to sweep the earth into
sand glass broken teeth
the sun's plasma core
*******
**** your cult of everything will be alright
my gender studies tutor was ***** because you stood by
and said the world isn't a fair place
and to get over it
*******
*******
*******
i ******* hate you all

lost ash blurred skin lips emptiness there was something before but it has fled departed in out something important meaningful run into the ground through streams of bitter ache i was a memory caught in its own remembrance straining to be heard now i am nothing returned to the vessel womb death it is six and the heater does nothing air like frost father telling me that the future is positivism there was a staircase surreal void morrow the edge of the world lost between something i could not perceive trapped in the moment flashing with red tumbling seeking losing words sinking through my own flesh to the earth dirt too far from my head to tell grains apart split like atomic what did i want to remember i have spent days losing too much on purpose bed soaked a matted waste of sweat and the hours **** splitting futures like a prism where i find myself a stranger i cannot stand she us a wretched heart on a couch sitting all sudden a boring cliche lips running along salt severed skin fingers head the bone breaks the back arcs itself in an unending whimper a voice escapes and i’m left trying to catch it in the morning teeth the sliver of a smile haunting the air like a phantom fingers trace smoke sunbeams and feel nothing i fell into her like ash the breaking end of a cigarette all cold and irreversible a collapsed worthless wake and now i am alone

There is a deepness here
I no longer recognise as my own.
How do you laugh so effortlessly?
Mouth so small
all teeth.
I used to have nightmares of you
reaching into my lungs.
You’d draw my breath
on a cold August morning
and I’d suffocate.
People are a lot like homes.
There is laughter at times
but for the most part
there is silence.

Cracks in the sky
They tell me not to look
My best friend bled from her knees when she left home
We went back to my apartment
And filled it with static
The neighbours broke like china
Scattering on their doormat
I think the world is an egg and I was born to outgrow it
I ripped my flesh on the tarmac
Skating down the subway
Mother hadn’t cried in years
But now its pouring
I part my hands and let my breath out
Again and again and again
It’s going to crack soon
The world will wake from a bad dream
And forget we ever existed
Step in front of a train
Take off your shirt
Maybe we’re all just sick
Filling our aches with distractions
Turned on like televisions
Netflicks, endless repetition
We go on like that
Running our sleeves along lighters
The sun opened its mouth today
Nobody cared
Too stressed over the price of cigarettes
I can’t talk
I buried my head long ago
In the Mariana Trench of Tokyo
Where we buried grandpa because we ran out of funds
And had to live off stale bread from the school cafeteria
We should have stopped
Just given up and collapsed
Filled the streets with ambrosia
Cracked our own heads awake