adopt a demon tonight
and if you're a writer
she'll help you become a
great one even
It is worth exposing yourself
to her
You won't call her a demon,
of course. That term is offensive
You'll refer to her as The Muse,
your muse
and she will visit you when the
time is right
and the time will be right
when you start doing your thing
You'll see.

the screen
the keyboard
the small room
the closed door
locked door
closed window
blinders keeping
the sun away
a chair
an empty stomach
protesting against
tequila
more tequila

ready

you can write now

I want to rip my name
              out of your throat  
You are not allowed
                  to speak it anymore.

I
stare,
stare into
the flames.
Mesmerized.
I
hear the
sound of
creation.
The
snap, crackle,
pop of
creation.
I see
embers flying
like burning
stars
spinning
in infinity.
I
see time,
present and
past, while
contemplating
future time.
It’s all
in the
flames.
Parsing
existence.
Turning it
over, teasing
it out.
So much
to
contemplate.
Making sense,
trying to
make sense.
Impossible.
Impossible,
to know,
impossible to
understand
creations
meaning,
its raison d'etre.
Futile,
no way
of knowing.
I stare into
the flames.
Mesmerized!

Deep into
the bowels
of existence
I look.
Deep into
time.
Deep into
substance.
Deep into
reality I stare.
Others stare
back.
Others looking.
Throughout
time.
Others looking
for answers.
Answers into
why.
Why is there
anything?
Deeper I
journey.
Wondering
what’s at
the core,
the center
of it all.
Fog,
is what
I see, the
quantum fog
of probabilities.
The substrate
of reality
uncertain.
Mystery
is what
I found.
Mystery is
all there is!

if i am a sinner
then watch me commit
my scorned heart will burn
i’ll make you submit

but if i am a saint
warm blood in my veins
it’ll spill out for you
until nothing remains

so i guess either way
your wish is fulfilled
i’ll fall at your throne
the figure you killed.