This world is so limited;
This world of people.
Chained by the
Swirling aether of
Yin and Yang.

This world is so expansive;
All existence continuously overlapping
A butterfly effect
In the form of waves.

Drowning

A complex word.

I would lie
And say I am fine
Without you
My dear

But it seems
I've knawed off my nails
Peeled the skin at my heels
And watched myself decay

My own voice
In my own head
Tells me
I have to

Funny
What the mind
Can do
To its body

Tall and dark
A handsome face
She walks amoungst the thorns
Pricking them first
Laughter in angst
Remorse in the joyous

Eyebrows flare, eyes rolled to white
She dulled the jewels on the beetles back
She convinced the bird to veer from flight
She crushed the soul of the earth’s core
Crunched it like a pit
And let bloom decay.

Pale mist echoes silently
So still...
It’s this us?
Because we're nothing
Can the air decay?
Because I want us to die
Us to
vanish during the night.  
Can the air please decay?
and make my infatuation rot and let the black flies fly around me
A least it would make something real
Which is the thing I desire the most.  
Me begging on my fragile knees
Please make the air decay
Because living in this world of wonder is causing too much pain to bare.  

-We were never a thing (we never had a chance because I killed us by having no confession and you killed me by not noticing my loving gaze)

As this world degrades,
And we've had enough of the old ways.

I can only wonder what becomes,
After this new birth,
Decays.

I know this world's rules,
And those before,

And I may know of what comes next,

But I will not know what rules,
As they call the next of next,

The fool.

I wake up in the morning,
Swiping spiderwebs from the corner of my eyes.
All the flies attract the predators.
I brush one off my shoulder,
Not out of fear, but out of convenience.

It’s happened before,
where a thought sits and stews.
The sun bakes my brain
And the garbage inside attracts buzzing flies
Swirling around my head.
People’s mouths are moving but all I hear
Is the constant drone and thrum of decomposers.

And before long, slugs and snails and worms creep through my ears
Thriving on the decay,
The rot of my brain.

As with everything, rot comes and goes with the season,
And I simply wait out the stench of spoiling thoughts.
There’s the option to rake out the old,
Clear the paths of my mind,
But I’ve found that as soon as it’s cleared, it’s back again.
Like leaves in the fall.

But it comes and goes,
And comes again, and goes again,
And before I know it, the rotten thoughts are replaced by ones of hope.
A breath of peace and hope.
Life.
My brain blooms,
And the rain waters my face.

Instead of waking with spiders,
I feel a gentle breeze.

It has been there for days, wasting away.
Bugs are summoned by the smell of decay.
Furry growth in a moist state,
Flies regurgitate.
Buzz, buzz, buzz all over the Charolais.

i truly hope that your skeleton festers beside mine
and our dirt clogged fingertips mould together
even after we lose the ability to grip.
wouldn't it be nice to rot with you.