The moon, it calls me,  
I wake inside of a dream.
My desires in reach.

-SLuR

I like the way god takes his time to pull the knife out of my spine.
The tingles climb my vertebrae, all fun and games, with bony snakes
clutching to broken ladders. Huff n’ Puff crowned The Magic Adder.
Blow my house down, and let it fly away; The Kansas view was lame
and I’ve heard Oz is all the rage. There’s no place like a broken home,
Sticks and stones held together by thin worn rope. Deliberately
place the frail bones and mark the way to the white rabbit’s stagnate hole.
I’d let myself fall.. slip through the fingers of your disfigured gods
And they’d watch me twitch and crawl, erratic, like a dying insect
So close to death but not quite there yet, I can’t seem to find the way
Crush me with your weight, I love how it feels to be completely erased.

-SLuR

Would you remember my face
if it were a different shape,
If our souls burned a new fate in another time, another place?
Were we only meant to graze against the grain of this timeframe,
Should I bargain away
all of my chips in this game
or should I fold and wait for another time, another place?

-SLuR

The devil lies on top of my windowsill
With whispered spell. In an ensorcelling hell,
He sniffs tricks up his sleeves and his tongue has become numb
To the weeping and gnashing of his rotten teeth.
The words he speaks are only born to deceive.
He creeps into sleep inching towards my infant dreams
And takes their life from me. Hold my throat, abort my screams.
When I wake take all that I see; blind me to the truth with illusory inventions,
Fact erodes with the friction of silky fabrications. Hold me in your visions
As the phantoms sing hymns of their unholy afflictions, for eternities
I shall be trapped in his perdition.

-SLuR

Give me an adjective to describe this:
The _______ loneliness.
The itch that persists to ____ my skin,
The ______ twitch; the urge to give in.
The voices that _____ me not to resist.
Whispering ________ nothings in my head,
Death howling in the wind, a hand to _____.
Held _____ in my grasp, life slips away like sand.

- _____

Nomadic motivation moves the masses at midnight;
Meandering, shambling souls moaning for innovation with
neanderthal persuasion. Keep the pace past paleolithic,
and gift the gifted with a wicked sickness. Instilled hatred,
From decades of desecration. The profound **** and violation
of the womb that holds all creation, our embryo of imagination
Decaying with elation while I shift my shells to match the constellations.

-SLuR