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Lauren Sage Apr 2013
The world is ending, the moon fell down
Left a crater in the hearts of children whose parents were now just simply gone,
Sent to the non-existent great beyond

Moneys as worthless as amateur songs,
In the end I guess the Earth won
I'm adamant to admit,
My brain's not a muscle, my mind is not strong

You risk a kiss through my face-mask
Meant to repel love and asbestos
Well if I catch your flu I fear my life is no longer
Your lifeless eyes are all I lust for

Happy
Biohazard
We're
Happy

Is it wrong I think this is romantic?
Everyone we know is dead my darling,
My heart's undead I'll admit, what if we both got bit and there was one vaccine?
Then there's NO vaccine.

We'll ramble on about everything we miss
Like electricity and Christmas
On the bright side, hen February comes to town,
I'll be the only Valentine you have around

Happy
Biohazard
We're happy

I like to forget this desert tan
Drying the sun straight from the land
I like to forget this worthless hand
Claimed by your hard, stung in the sand
I like to forget this broken heart,
I will not eat, my deaths not far

(Happy)

You won't admit that things are better
Packed up and living in this desert
Well I'm gonna miss you when you're gone, but I won't write any grieving songs
And I won't kiss the sky and hope you're there
But I'll hold your gun and live your piercing stare
i like to forget  sometimes
That I'll miss you
And your technicolor pastimes.


We're happy.
Keith J Collard Jan 2013
Resident Facebook by Keith Collard

{remnants of a blood and ice coffee stained diary}


23april1996,

Been working at this mansion for at least four months now. Fellow co-workers are friendly enough. The pharmeceutical researchers are very pompous with their exact demands. Im in charge of the food storage and refridgeration for the mansion. It is the only modernly powered facet of this mansion. Besides the labs in the basement(from which I only heard).


26april1996,

This mansion is too creepy, the architect designed the living quarter and main facade of the mansion in a 1920 neo gothic fashion--with gas lamps and gothic paintings. Every device, even the typewriters in the mansion are old fashioned mechanical. A top researcher told me in casual conversation that these doors and clocks are more durable than current electronic means, built in the same fashion as the pyramids and stonehenge--he was pointing out all the clocks and engraved doors in the dining hall as he was speaking,while I was putting out the food. He's the usual eccentric for as these researchers go, he told me the company president paid him to design classical mantraps along the mansion and guardhouse to keep workers from straying, encrypted with runes and riddles as keys(some odd ducks).


2may1996,

Mansion workers were given each a laptop today by the head researcher Albert Wesker. This guy is like the James Bond of scientists, dashing and suave with a 9mm berreta at his side(wish we were allowed guns). He wears sunglasses--even at night. He said they experimented with a comunications app the scientists have been using to communicate expeiremental data. The only app available on there is something called Facebook, which the scientists call "fbproto."


5may1996,

The f.bproto is neat, we can watch movies , talk to eachother, and to workers at the pharmaceutical's sister facilities. Everything is monitored by the companies security admins Ive heard. The company will be holding raffles via f.bproto for staffers who could win a chance to participate in "beneficial lab trials" from ***** extension treatment to magnetic wave reducing therapy. Sounds unappealing to me...I put my name down on the site just in case.


6 may1996,Been talking to girl who works in sanitation department underneath the guardhouse, her name is Ada, she said there was an important goverment official flying in to the helipad today. She is pretty cute, and one bright light in this shadowy mansion. message from company, we should join democratic party on fbproto. whatever they say,they're the scientists.


10may1996,

Been stayin up too late posting on f.bproto,the company is posting alot of links, of visual images and sentences I don't quite understand. Ben from mansion cleanin services keeps hitting on Ada,I want to defriend him but want to know what he's doing. I put my cat in fbproto company pic contest,with everyone else who was given lab pets by the scientists, I put little gloves on her paws--Im sure to win.


11may1996,

Karl sent me a message on fbproto that he saw a researcher go into his room, and never saw him leave, and when he went to clean his room the researcher was not in there. This mansion is creepy, I mean a statue of a woman cutting her own throat with the inscription "only death shall set you free,"is that a little gloomy or what. fan of smiley faces on fbproto.;)


12 may 1996

man, the doors are like eight inches thick, solid wood, I locked myself out of my room and tried to shoulder the door in. Well, the door with its inlaid wood carving just laughed at me, it resembles a dragon or snake or someshit with two fern looking wings, red and blue. Spooooky stuff. I had to go get the security admin for the mansion staff living quarters. He unlocked the door, and told me that all the doors are solid oak. I asked him what the words at the bottom of serpent meant, he said it says in latin “ the two wings of the beast are red and blue.” I asked him what the hell that means, he says he didn’t know, but that it has to do with the research the scientists are doing.

I stayed up almost all night on fbproto, at first because my shoulder was killing me, but then it went away, and I kept finding myslelf with a ciqerette in my fingers all the way burnt down and my skin charred, geez, fbproto really takes your mind off things, especially this mansion which reminds me of a sepulcre. That Dan thinks he’s hot stuff, posting himself in his living quarters in the guard house, which is better than the mansion staffs. He get’s to go to the guardhouse recreation room, his profile pic is a bottle of Johnny Walker Red in it’s high end package that looks like a coffin, that him and the guards won at dart’s. It’s not hard to win that when Albert Wesker is on your team, that guy sunk three darts WilliamTell style into the bull’s eye. He tagged me in the picture of the Johnny Walker, *******.


13 may 1996

Locked myself in the walk in freezer today by accident, forgot the code….a researcher let me out finally, and asked if I was alright, I said I was fine, he just looked at me curiously. I was in there to clean out these blue vines, that kept on growing into the ducts and stuff, kept on turning the temperature down. But I won’t lie, I had my laptop with me to pass time, but after a while I couldn’t scroll down because my fingers stopped working , so I pressed the keyboard with my tongue. Ada’s pictures kept me warm, oh how I love her…..I want her so bad.


13may1996

Had a dream about the helicopter ride in and how the dense forest resembled a corpse’s face as we flew past it fast overhead. We touched down on the helipad, and there were dead bodies in the razor wire, they were shaking as if they were in a laughing frenzy from the rotor wash of the helicopter. Then as I entered the main façade (my footstep's echos on the tile seemed to walk away and disapear into the mansion)and stepped on the black and white checkered hall floor, Albert Wesker was there, and he was nicely dressed as a bartender or sumthin, and he asked if " I wanted a ****** mary," and he was squeezing a heart into the glass, then I looked down and there was a hole in my chest where my heart was supposed to be. Then there was a giant ice coffee and dancing with a mirror to moonlight sonata….****** stuff, this mansion is getting to me.


14may1996

dan is such a ****, keeps posting pics of himself shirtless, he was given some experimental hormone from a researcher and is relleshing in it It was some form of energy drink called Red Bull.

Him and Ada are talking more. Message from company to like republican party page(whatever)Daves three eyed frog won fbproto pic contest,grrrr.


15may1996,

there's been more accidents in the mansion and in the labs below. Fred from the kitchen staff cut off his fingers today,and Ive heard through Chris' post that someone fell into the live feed area where they feed animals to their experiments. Bob put his fbproto password(instead of mansioncode) into the mechanical lock at the observatory springing a trap of spikes that spiked his hand to his head and his head to the wall, the featherduster was still in his hand(or face).;(


16may1996,

the scientist with the always grave look has disapeared, the guards said he transferred,but a fellow researcher said he was fired, shame, I liked him.

There is a plant living in my radiator, keeps growing vine-like tendrils, and is turning up the heat...230 friends on f.bproto,woot woot.


17may1996,

the company is handing out promotional ice coffee that they created in the labs to staffers via f.bproto,I wasn't picked, dang,its said to give you "10x human energy and vitality".I became a fan of Backstreet Boys on f.bproto.


18may1996,

karl found a memo from the missing researcher under his bed when he was cleaning out his room, sent me a message via f.bproto,it read that the researcher concluded that the f.b proto had negative effects on living tissue, decreased brain function,increased tendencies for violence,and not worth the sublimal control contract with the goverment, and that both pre-cambrian ferns pose to much liability for a biohazard and show signs of sentience.........hmm,im up to 300 friends now.


19 may 1996,

more accidents in mansion, Albert Wesker sent message to staffers that he was just promoted to Head of Security,and that if anybody is caught leaving the premises they will be shot. I wouldn't even dare to go out in the surrounding forest, I hear the wild dogs howlin all night amid those dense woods.just became a fan of Ace of base, they are awesome.


20may 1996,

my roomate looks like a hot messs, his skin looks pale with black blotches and he has pitch black circles underneath eyes, he's been taking the labs new painkillers, man he should change his profile pic. I poked Ada.


21 may 1996

message from f.bproto, "outside guards replaced by Hunters.".....man, def would not go out there now, I fed one of those ape reptile thingy's live feed the other day( Phil went missing, I had to do his job, always doing other peoples work), and the feed for that day was a cow, and this thing just poked the cow to death with its razor claws.

Everyone of those brute raptor things have a skeleton key has their middle razor claw, a researcher said they can hear every door open and shut in the mansion, " If you see one, turn around and go out the door you came, if you enter a door your not supposed to, well....." he didn't finish what he was saying, only walked off muttering "what have I done....".....I friend requested him on fbproto, his last post was "god forgive me." His profile pic was his mansion room, with replicas of insects and a fishtank(that is rumoured to be a model of a giant one in the basement). He disapeared soon after and his fbproto was deactivated.

Joined Labville on fbproto.;)


22may1996,

message from company, the labs are combining expieramental ice coffee,painkillers,and steroids,anyone on f.bproto can partake, and we should document how we feel and what we do on fbproto multiple times a day. Took a pic of myself shirtless, can see spine coming thru skin, and I keep catching the red plant from the radiator posing in the background, or giving me bunny ears......grrrrrrrr.;(


23may1996

went to smoke a spleef on the stone balcony, near the greeen house over looking the forest the other night, they grow all kinds of red and blue marjiauna there.....but there was one of those reptile hunter things, standing guard there, blocking the path, it screamed and almost blew my eardrums out, " okey dokie" I said, and slowly backed away and left......friggin nazis these pharmaceutical people are.

I got rid of the Labville app on fbproto, that game is too hard, I keep running out of butlers to feed my experiments, and my humans keep escaping into the woods. But mostly, Im sick of seeing

Albert Wesker's name with the highest score everytime I play......



25may1996,

Ben said he saw a handfull of scientists and guards on the helipad taking a chopper out. There is more plants decorating the halls, no one knows who put them there, some rooms are blazing hot, others are ice cold. Ben said to not go to the library, everyone who went upstairs to that room has not returned, that the blue ones have took over the cobblestone path to the courtyard where the armory is. Said he saw Kevin in the tangles running up the stone wall on the side, he had a vine going in his mouth and coming out his eye; and he said that the researchers call the red ones "evaginates," for how they trap and slowly eat you(sounds ******). Im not on Ada's top friends list anymore, angry.


26may1996,

the mansion is awash in accidents and fighting, roomate looks like zombie, others look like reptilian muscled gorillaz, others just a blur they move so fast.eyes hurt from staring at f.b proto. Moaning alot. everyone is playing "I Saw the sign" from Ace of Base. Vines keep stealing my hat, and eating people.


25...,

no food, ate cat,mittens and both hearts,gas lights out, dark,everyone walking around with laptops to see,blue fbproto reflections on walls.fml.


2aprol

took chris' ice cofee and killed ben before he took steroids,lol,ate steroids,no one cooking food, getting hungry,guards came,ate em.....bullet hole in my chest......chaaange f.bproto profile pic to facee....my quote is mooohaha... just. saying


23...,

feel strong, fast,gruntin alot, hungry, no food, ate carl, ate red plant, carved him with my skeleton clah....I hate mondays was post on f.bproto,yum ice cofee.


43

oooohhhh, lol,lol, top ada friend list, ,ate benny...b.esisde armpits....he stink.....roarrrrr......oohhh....bullel wond in cheeek....see benny in thar......moving quick......hunman bones everyware....stain carpits....helicupter....mur guards......no.....pulice.....wesker is wit em....ace of base now.....bed of blud..I wit...fur em.....fbproto sez **** starssss ......


2..........rooooooahhhhh,yum, ohhhhhhh,lol,raohh.fml............[rest of transcript unintelligible]
Zero Nine Oct 2017
The last letter you sent to me
simply read, "Z"
as if you wanted me to see
it was too hard
for you to
complete my name,
even after everything,
still, you can't even
press it with a Bic
into some Hammermill

So, what can't they see?

The last letter you sent to me
read like a eulogy
for the woman you were
The praise was put on pretty thick
By your description
anyone else would see
me as biohazard, medical waste,
another toxic taste,
highly addictive, overwhelming,
an overall detriment
to your mental health

So, what can't they see?
Lover from another over moment,
what can't they see?

Doesn't matter how I conduct myself,
certain ears listen to certain mouths
regardless of the content, or the timing
There's been a Jean-Claude in pink
since the beginning, sitting in the trees
taking notes, waiting for the moment
I reveal something petty and honest
in a rare moment of our honesty

Feel free to rake up my mistakes
If you want to do us both, anata,
we'll need a bigger ******* rake

So, what can't they see?
Lover from another over moment,
what can't they see?
it's difficult for me to express myself.
cameran Sep 2014
one big tear in
the fabric of society,
the shut ins,
the outsiders,
the comic book geeks,
the gamers,
the carefree lovers,
the jokers,
they all want to fit in,
but why would you
want to be on the inside?
the biohazard *******,
and ken dolls aren't cool,
they're cruel.
"ew, your lame."
Wednesday Feb 2014
I think the movies ruined my life
I think you ruined my life

I think im sick
I think you made me sick in the head when you left

I think im nuclear waste in a biohazard zone
I think my arms are going to fall off

I check for cancer every day in hopes I have it and
I won't have a reason to live or maybe something more along the lines of
an excuse to say I want to die because
I have this stupid body I'm stuck in

and all I've wanted to ever do was see my bones
I used to think I was in love with the female body but now
I know I'm just in love with my own

for the past three years I have been slaving to the whiteness of my bones
I have been trying to **** myself so I can be cut open

I've been looking at my blood like
I'll finally find the poison that is inside of me

I just need a culprit to blame for this disease that floats around in my skull and wakes up all the dreams I never wanted to see
I just need a reason

I talk like poetry and
I move like a mistake most people don’t understand me because
I speak in similes and metaphors

I speak like coffee is dripping out between my teeth
look I'm doing it here and I don’t know how to stop

I question like a demand and
I have no excuses for the way I move

Maybe I'm just ready to blow the twin towers down again
Maybe I'm ready to crash this body like an airplane
cait-cait  May 2017
biohazard
cait-cait May 2017
red
.
.
is a safe color,
the color of warning and
sweet relief,
as
a man wrapped in
plastic comes to your door,
with gifts or a fire hose,
to take you away,
or
as you zip
yourself up
in a sleeping bad with
crossed
stitches.

orange is the color of fear,
of horror,
of how you bled through
my doorway when i turned
off
my lights,
plucking at my heart
when i was trying to
sleep,:
orange is the color of night
when you want it to end.

yellow are the edges of
a picture, of memories
upturned by bees, and flowers..,
and eyes that look up
out windows.
yellow stands next to brown
as my toes tickle wood
and im warmed by
the sun,
yellow are the walls of my kitchen.

green is a gray color;
a neutral that fuels fire
with
mint swirls that surround me,
as
i wish
to run into a forest, hoping
i could somehow
drown a swamp with your body,
or
eat alligators alive.
.
i swear that i
would.

blue is left the saddest color,
ripping stains through
the sky
and leaving oceans with no
islands,
.
blue is the feeling of nostalgia
as you pray to planets
you'll never reach,
wishing for a hole to crawl into,
and a zipper for your heart.
singing
is blue, and so is
night.

purple is a royal color,
the color of a dress behind glass,
as children's laughter
tinkles and a man folds up his
coat; leather.
purple is the color of cake, or
the toys in a baby's room
and
my sheets before i cry.

black is the aftershock of sleep,
and of beauty,
as you stare at the floor from
your place on the couch and
wonder why it hurts.

i look at the sky everyday.
my personal feelings about all of the colors. a lot of these are based on memories that i have. Starts off weak but i think it ends strong. idk. life has been tough lately
Ashtin Johns Aug 2012
in my veins, these fiery flames, irritate like grains of forgotten names

call me insane, but at least I maintain composure and refrain from strangling myself deranged

even tho im convoluted, completely diluted and secluded from this polluted brainless blue ***

i can't shake these blunders of wonders that wake me from my slumbers and asunder like lightening after thunder

why is this society, full of variety, stuck on the wrong types of proprieties? to feed your satiety? to reach your notoriety?  

continue to lie to me. stream the feed on live t.v. the glamour of no individuality. convincing there's something wrong with me.

straight faced frugality. absolutely no morality.

they feed on the weak. while they silently weep. "beauty doesn't come cheap, so take the leap! buy now and don't be unique!"

******* grotesque! I'd rather rip my heart outta my chest than ingest that wretched mess.

"beauty" is born not molded and formed from biohazard waste and paste. hows that plastic taste while you constantly baste your neighbors in hate.

I can't wait til the day you meet fate.
Sam Temple Nov 2015
the CIA will never make the money off ******
it made off *******
******* is for parties
dance clubs
good times in social settings
******, not so much
dark alleys with ***** dealers
selling black tar
to hopeless souls
Mexican mules with **** cavities
brimming
carrying kilos into Nogales
or maybe Calexico
bow legged and sweating
just 35 more trips and sweet little Consuela
can be an American
until Trump gets his wall –
article after article relaying tragedy
the poor, lost in addiction
desperately seeking a coping mechanism
something to stem the tide of despair
and general malaise
dead in their prime
over a twenty sack
and low self-worth….
many friends and family this same tale…
some folks heritage is in ranching,
thousands of head of cattle
driven across the open plains
grandfather to grandson,
uncle and cousin….
others,
political dynasty
papa congressman
and auntie judge
but not mine –
the crest of my tree looks like the biohazard symbol
as generations of drug addicts litter the undergrowth
their weight attempting to hold me
lock me into familial history
unfortunately or fortunately
my will, and recognition of god’s power
flowing within me, as it..
I am my own master
and free to fashion my branches
to whatever my liking desires –
undercover government agents line street corners
whispering illusionary tales of release
stories of becoming void of pain
parables relating a free mind
to personal freedom
through chemical alterations
I whisper back
“I bet my **** is delicious,
wanna taste?” –
You unwrapped my blind fold
I could only see this mess of deconstructed bones
The smog filled my bleeding nostrils
I gasped to know the truth of a world rotating in circumvention

Tangents of humiliation
A crab crawls back into its used receptacle
It does not have to face the uneven shadows
Fairy wings brittle and break

The ashes of frightened unicorns
Paths off way far into the emasculated jungle
Hidden silences wielded in your depth
Machines and paper plates

The trees of battered car horns and biohazard bags
The stereotypical infantile jungle world  
Without the echoes of the children you never should have had

Mary prostitutes herself on the corner
The Holy Ghost burns unnoticed

Please let us go back to a time
When we could sit still without retrograding voices
Telling us to progress and revolve
We can no longer feel awesomed in the presence of a structural anomaly

One that had never lived or breathed
Or failed
We were on the verge of a revolution
Before they took our fairytales away

The myths were replaced with shear and utter disgust
For the entire human community
Let us retreat to the forest of Incas and attack dogs
For we can not have a revolution of one.
Jeremy Betts May 2022
Everyone's dealin' with their own personal demon but I'm only ever bein' seen as a monster
Always judged accordingly, ironically by one family friendly imposter after another
Every other sinner the world over is allowed their own irrational feelings to be front and center
For them love is always the answer to offer, reassuring they need look no further
But I gotta "**** it up" and "move on" from this gutter faster which I take as to make sure my 50 caliber finisher is fully loaded with one in the chamber
And if the **** thing doesn't misfire on the first pull of this here trigger I figure I'll be a single bullet Russian roulette winner hero figure or would that make me a loser?
Am I an incurable cancer? I think I know the answer but I'm not sure and I'm sure not a doctor
However, it's only a matter of time before everything I touch turns into a disaster
Could it be that I'm just a carrier? An infectious delivery driver with t-rex arms making steering clear that much harder
What is pretty ******' clear is my presence here makes no one's life better, just spoiling the atmosphere, so I back pedal out of the picture
Then you label me a quitter the moment you notice I'm no longer there to be your *******
I guess I'll take that title if it'll make it easier or help you to feel better about what went down here, just please don't allow yourself to stay bitter forever
But rather allow time to erase my lingering stench of failure from the air altogether
It's only fair that I make way for you and anyone here to enjoy life without the fear of me being anywhere near
Your bright future wasn't mine to take and alter so I'll round up every bit of pain I caused that made your heart heavier and your life harder than it needed to be ever
Then take it with me to be a sacrificial offer next to me on the alter like a lamb to slaughter
Tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of your forever with no black cloud loomin' over

I gotta ask...

Who do I apologize to once the deed is done and I pull out of the race, refusing to run
Instead, turning the starting gun on myself to become a ghostly astral projection
It should be everyone but it'll be close to no one due to a punctured lung and crushed windpipe from being hung from inside the hole I dug starting back when I was young
No human being person type thing had a single **** to spare, not a one
Wouldn't even let a rerun apology or empty sympathy roll off the tongue, and forget empathy, ain't capable of none
Couldn't hear or didn't care before I was gone so I'm a shoe in to continue on holdin' the same position I've been in from my beginnin', now doesn't that sound like fun?
I've gone and done the forbidden so any opinion of me will only worsen as they lose sight of who I was as a person
Forgettin' my mind was a maximum security prison, the only way out presentin' itself to me was a coffin
But you're only focusin' solely on one particular fraction of an action
Ignorin' why that particular path was even taken in the first place, don't be mistaken, it wasn't a knee **** reaction
A quick observation and the pain would have been plain as the nose on your face but I caught no eyes lookin'
Just heads turnin' away the exact moment I notice 'em watchin'
Silently each formed their own conclusion and brought with 'em some ******* opinion from their twisted vision of me, all to feed the illusion
The one that claims I took the easy way out without explorin' any other option
You say you know me, you call me friend but have proven not to be in the end
But by all means, go ahead and continue to pretend you're the better person

How could you have known...

First of all, exhaustion was half the reason I was even in that head space
I could only envision this exact endin' ever takin' place as I fell from grace
I gave up tryin' to replace the dark with light cause try as I might it was all in vain, and in my haste I didn't notice the byproduct of a chronic toxic waste
Every attempt to place one foot in front of the other was riddled with set backs and laced with failure and I could never seem to rid myself of the foul taste of my own biohazard base
I'll be just another cold case with more than a trace of evidence but the answers in the proof aren't important enough to chase, never the time nor the place
Given up on before I even started the race so no warm embrace at the finish, no congratulatory smile from a familiar face
No one there to return my dinghy smile that's held in place with cheap elementary school Elmers glue paste
Why was the tare down so quick to take place with hardly an ounce of effort but the rebuild progressed at a snails pace?
There were many who watched all this take place in real time but avoided eye contact whenever face to face and I'm convinced that would have continued to be the case
I know I'm a disgrace now but wasn't until now so what excuses are you going to pull from your briefcase of two face ******* and put in place explaining why you turned your back on me in the first place, back at my birthplace?

Surprise surprise...

...a silence washes over the crowd. What happened to how proud you were with your intentionally loud gossip predicting what round I'd go down?
Were you only joshin'? Just clownin' around? Didn't think you could ever or would never be bound to something so profound?
Well here we are, you called it, the words bound freely from your mouth but now that things have gone south you're no longer able to enjoy the sound so you just turn it down
Or were you one of those hanging around saying I'd never do it but if you ever bothered to look into it you'd find the proof of the opposite truth can be found
But no, it's gotta be that I'm just desperate for all the attention it would bring to my part of town
Whatever, doesn't matter now, you could have never comprehended the reason why while shooting for cloud nine I got stuck six clouds down and wasn't able to post up for a rebound
It's only understood by people who've had the same problem with ups and downs and picking themselves up to finish the round after being so down and out that sea level was seen as higher ground
I know the way my last act went down is frowned upon and the deformation process was bound to take place once I was no longer part of the crowd
But look, you want to know why I choked down a handful of pill bottles for my second time 'round?
My problems were gaining on me quickly, I was steadily losing ground
They had to be drowned or at the very least inhumanely put down
I was no longer fun to be around, a bad joke turned evil clown
My darkness broke free from the compound where it was bound
And now wherever you see me it too can be found
Every day a new battleground
Every sundown a new showdown
A new possibility to possibly be hellbound
Just please set me gently when you put me down
And I'll try to do the same when I let you down.

©2022
American
Whiteness
the greatest mental illness of all time
even before they were diagnosed
the world has become safer
because the world finally
has funded a wall around America
a padded room institution
where the dissociative disorder
can destroy itself
and not everyone else in the process
the casual crisis
is an emergency
whiteness the coup d’état
is wreaking havoc
on the human soul
domesticated whiteness
riskiest to do business with
spilling blood all around the world
quarantine the biohazard
whiteness on its journey of impunity
when my family was most vulnerable
to the morbid lust
of the mental illness of whiteness
we gently genocidally refer to as social construction
which is really the deconstruction
of the black human
and the origins of humanity
American
American built by the pieces of my family
glued and mortared by the blood and sweat
spilled from them
the most dangerous deconstruction site
in the world
biological warfare
spewing
leaking
uncontrollably
contaminating humanity
polluting its evolution
at war with symbiosis
for the purity of fascism sake
a coup d’état called American whiteness
which is also been a long
untreated dissociative disorder
ARI Mar 2023
I always swear work doesn’t affect me.

Trauma?! HA! Never.

And for the most part I am ok.

But suddenly I realized as I counted every single calorie; every single bite… scrubbed every surface and washed my hands far too many times..

The fear of gaining weight; of relying on everyone else to care for me…

Just might be coming from the living people whose bodies are actively rotting. Flesh and fluids dripping off the sides of my stretcher.

My ambulance regularly becoming a biohazard until I’ve scrubbed every inch.

Listening to the sounds of weeping patients on their way to the ER for the 5th time this month because no body cares about them.

It’s not death that scares me. Not loss of limbs or sight that worries me. It’s not having anyone who wants to love me. Not having anyone willing to speak for me when I am broken. It’s the idea my mind can be pristinely sharp but my body defeated and needing someone. But no body cares.


That possibility is petrifying.

-ARI
C S Cizek Dec 2014
My mom tried to sweep
clean the cigarette burns on the armrest,
and turned the plastic-cracked
lampshade away from rare houseguests.
The arrow-shaped gap melted
at the middle and leaked down
the shade like a stopped-
up gutter. Climbing out her bedroom
window, she knelt on the rotten
mint shingles and tossed matted
maple leaves as indiscriminately
as rock salt onto the glassy sidewalk
drinking in the overhead halo
of Penelec Electric and pine needles.

Needles—

The red biohazard suitcase
in the dining room is packed
full for distribution
in a Philadelphian switchyard.

City of Brotherly Burning Barrels
and railroad-tie benches—
but not for dressing up suburban
meditation gardens, or housing
yellow jackets and half-melted
Army men. For sitting, sleeping,
and supplying calf splinters
for small talk along the Schuylkill
River, watching the cell lights
of Eastern State get swallowed
whole by the systematic tall grass,
one by one, thanking some blessed
something for their freedom
in the boxcars, their *** and Lucifer
matches, and each other.

— The End —