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709 · Nov 2021
i cant get enough
Glass Nov 2021
a tongue a knife a rhyme
a slitted try of silence mine
i could never keep it fought
rip the gut right from my life
ill scream the name until i rot
shreik a word so loud ill cry
i tried my luck but missed the cut

a trickled spiggot sputters with it
a soft spot for the eyes that fall out of my skull
flaming pupils burn the crop
the students of the fire
they stop drop and roll into the wretched thought
that comes each time they learn what has been wrought to build this pyre

to eviscerate the weakened soul
the empty rooms inside my home
voraciously in rapture
tearing sinews off my mind
splitting ears and feeding from the captured
nothing left behind my skin no map no muscles
missing compass knees buckled

******* leave me or ill pull the trigger
ill **** the lost and eat the hindered
incinerate your wicked splinters
and in this home
snap each of your twelve ******* fingers

its teeth are gentle on me in a way that only devils can
we're peckish for atrocities and it has given me a plan
a broken handed man within the corridor
his one eye wide
the other in the devils side
a matching type to mine if i still had my sight
the door is closed and i am blind but we can smell the horror more
breaking out we tore into that bodys core
but that devil, him, the house, unborn
as i woke up in a corpse
for i am dead upon the floor
486 · Feb 11
Glass Feb 11
i dont know how to make you feel this
i dont know what words in what order
but i want you to see if but a glimpse
what it is inside this skull
because there is such unending emotion
and such vast blankness of nothing
sometimes i will just be sitting on the couch
the most innocuous of places as i scroll through
nothing of any particular meaning or significance
and then it opens
the floor beneath my feet is gone and there is nothing below
there will never be anything below
i will never hit the ground i will never touch the walls
there is nothing but darkness but visceral hunger but black desire
i dont know how to tell you just how bad just how sickening just how all consuming it is to experience
there is nothing else in my world there never was and there never will be
and that is the only thought that can occur when falling
or perhaps im floating even flying
there is no frame of reference
only this black of unfathomable intensity it makes me endlessly sad, infinitely mad, and simultaneously forever unfeeling
it makes me want to scream and rip the skin from my bones
it makes me want to destroy my body and my soul
it makes me want to curl up and cry for days on end
it makes me want to light my house on fire
it makes me want to run away at night in the rain and get hit by semi truck or train
i dont know how to write it so that you can feel just how deeply rooted it is
i want you to know how it feels i want someone to know what i am experiencing but i also want it to be poetic
i want it to have rhythm and i want it to make you feel the worst youve ever felt
because thats what its like when it opens
and i cannot get out and i cannot think of anything else it consumes me
i need to make someone else understand
it makes me aggressive and destructive
i learn by example because it grabs my jaw and pries my eyes
it forces me to look
it forces me to feel
it has something, maybe a talon or a fang, and when it pierces it becomes me
it courses in my veins it surrounds me inside and out
there is absolutely no way to avoid it and now there is not even a way to dislike it
once it is inside it controls me and i cannot even say i dont enjoy it because it is enjoying this and it is me now we are one and it is in power
if i were to still exist i would dislike it
but there is only it
my body has become just an object in its possession
just a vessel for the feelings
feelings is such an understatement of a word for what it is
it makes me so angry that i cannot find a way to truly say it
but like i said
i dont know what words
and i dont know what order
to make you understand and know
446 · Oct 2021
The Banquet I Make Her
Glass Oct 2021
my body and soul in a boxers ring
the ref has been shot, throttled, and kinged
compliant to no one, inside is a known run
yet all parties here are the foe
are the loser the liar and lo--
the body is violent.
the audience: god, and they sit there silent.
soul socked, blocked, and bruised, he shivers to quiet
and body, it staggers and quivers in triumph
but it shakes and it cries because its eyes are mine
for a fire inside
does not inspire
but burns and hollows to rinds

soul, he delivers a blind hit.
in stride and in mind, an inmate of wildness.
of trial-less, unending, childish depending, spiraling slightly askew

and of tiredness.

the soul, he kneels, and body, it keels
the ref has revived and is quick to the meal
she tears apart body and dips into soul

there's only one answer
as god keeps their hands still
no matter the way that it's told.
it, he, they, she, me
270 · Oct 2021
Weekly Words 20
Glass Oct 2021
love time heart life
shove rhyme smart right
tub dimes hard strife
some lime start smite

dead turn bed longer
fled learn read somber
head burn red stronger
said spurn dread ponder

room living darkness lies
grew dripping harness dies
through giving starkness tries
slough gripping tarnished minds

young eyes seeing crime lying thine creeping mine
rinds peeling feeling slime re a lizing healing shine
boy talk stalk walker struck sad bad potter dock

duck sought bought luck rock tongue tied from nights stuck
stuck in muck of crumpled ruckus truckers buck.
225 · Oct 2021
An Occurrance
Glass Oct 2021
a hand of circular motion
will turn and turn without promotion
a notion of loyalty unbreaking a sure one
but also forgiving will never occur

boxed up bottles full of glass
a burn from plastic flames of past
a cast doesnt mean that broken pieces should last
for the renewal will never occur

fearsome dearsome and doleful
a spur of the moment decision thats hopeful
a bowl full of concepts berating an old soul
but also the meal will never occur

a hungry and mangled existence
a hurt that never heals, for instance
a distance doesnt make you a witness
for the pain has never occurred
95 · Nov 2021
Weekly Words 21
Glass Nov 2021
pink photographs sticky notes brac e let bar
shrink chronographs picky votes stake a guitar
link show no paths sickly motes tasting it jarred
promo tracks stow though mats low foe packs so crow slaps
finicky face to picard
75 · Jun 5
Today's Date 17
Glass Jun 5
thirty minute play time
sixty hour scroll
fifteen times of homework
and seventy to toll

finger on a screen
lines of all thats in
shapes that have been seen
speaks of what has been

a notebook closed on table
hunched back over the board
bringing grapefruit abled
cracked knuckles to the core

touch and sense and good
twice upon the body
water held in stood
two thirds of the laundry

music in my follicles
art inside my pores
theres feeling in my eyelids
emotions in my joints
and most of every single thing there is
the thought of it conjoined
48 · Nov 2021
Todays Date 16
Glass Nov 2021
coming fast and about to hit
speed of light but even quicker
dissociated limbs that quit
a losing battle a quiet whimper
iced up feet in sheets of liquor
falling heads with IV drippers
crippled bones and blood made thicker
atrocious ripper zipped but flickered
wicker tricks grip wits of fleeting trips
grow weaker writhing trickled sick
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