I feel gross. Do you feel it to?
Organs melting, disintegrating,
Slopping out of my nose, mouth, pores.
Bubbling goo at my feet. Im empty.
Im not. Im a million things, but there’s only one.
Decay. Withering. Its starting, as my fingers
Turn to ash, falling like snow to trampled guts.
Im empty. Im not.

It’s the same. these words, lines, feelings.
Why do you stay? Why are you here?
Insignificance reeks from my bones.
Can you feel it, clouding around 26 letters?

The terminator called. They’re still here.
Still crawling. Still digging. Still spinning webs.
They’ll never leave me. But will they spread
To you? What good are my words then?

Am I helping or fanning the flames?
If one is hurt. One is lost. Is this pointless?
Im running to the edge of the galaxies.
To the edge of existence. Who’s waiting?

its scary, terrifying, the ceiling looking down,
leaking that moldy liquid, acid on my tongue.
***** carpet morphs, warps around my limbs.
im dying. what's the point of breathing? im dying.
five minutes, five months, five years. where? when?
take me now.

let me crawl
away to my hole
and hide until
the galaxies reflect
off my translucent skin

my eyes are burning,
crystallizing.
let me drift away.

what's true? do you feel anymore?
we're so disconnected. you scrolled the year away.
the planet is burning. people are dying.
do you even feel?

what is wrong with us?
sipping tea in blood stained clothes.
millions swarm. stab. shoot. eat melted flesh.
millions weep. scream. bleed. DIE with their kids.
millions sit. stare. drink. eat. yawn
in heated robes.
What is wrong with you?

Those swirling gases are fading.
It’s not blue, black. It’s gray. So gray.
Am I desaturated or is the sun rising?
Colors dance in a kaleidoscope twirl
Around my fists. Stay with me.
The sun is so pretty.