AB - ..Baby rejection is protection,
We were never ever the same,
Self awareness and common sense meets logic,
The human brain can only do so much,
Consciousness electrifying beyond universes,
Thoughts racing into better circumstances,
Better choices,
So be mad when its you I would erase, you are a phase,
Don't betray my trust , it could get ugly,
Make up a sob excuse for what you did, waddle like a little puppy,
This world is a joke and when it ends , it still will begin..
●
A.R. - They say it’s best
To expect the harm
From other human beings.
Its yours anyway
If you ignore it.
Your fate, your fault
Your flaw.

No excuse for innocence
Even if we all
Join this world
With it
intrinsic.


**** that.


There’s an obscene
arsenal of barbs
And daggers.
Piled up on the
hardwood floor.

A Battle Royale
In waiting.
But I won’t touch
A single one.
Not even for the shadows.


Cut me down
And I’ll be shorter
But I’ll never be
Anyone but
Me.

(Full poem in link)

I'm a shell
My soul has left
Empty as can be
Space that's left
Is not me

I'm useless
As a highway
Without cars
I might as well
Be on Mars

I'm gone
But still alive
Like stars persist
Until the light is gone
My body insists

I'm a circumference
The boundary surrounds
Dry carcass bone
I care not
Just lost-and-found

I won't return
To my body of ruin
Burial plans made
Threaded into a patchwork quilt
Upstaged and waylaid

I'm now safe outside
Myself
I see you looking in
She is gone from her
Forever now thick and thin

I'm tired of sycophants  
Complicit in democracy's destuction
By their hands, skinned alive
I left my body today
In order to survive

I see The Most High in you
                                          yo demons hate that. . .

he asked a question
and without waiting
for a response
drew three cards
from that divinatory deck
usually carrying as little
meaning as a tossed coin
scoffed at and swiftly ignored
this time seemed to tell
a recognisable tale
unexpected in its providence
a fortune perhaps
to favour the brave

the hanging man
with his eight swords
and his eight wands
these cards showed him
the start of a journey
not necessarily a life
turned upside-down
instead that a change
of perspective is needed
the octet of swords
unveiled his cage
of indecision
uncertainty and fear
a need to upset
the balance of the inert
a reasoning for destruction
in order to create
and those upright wands
carrying with them
such signs of movement
a willingness to decide
a commitment to progress

either that or
the pack was simply
reshuffled and dealt
again and again
until it foretold
that which needed
to be heard

Love, do as you wish
with my aching body,
but do not leave any bruises

Destroy what is left
of my heart, if you must,
but do not leave me again

I’m nothing coming through.
A ******, a let down.
I’m a plan turned mistake.
I slipped out into a world to be forgotten in it.
Cold, slimy, smelly, and stupid.

I’m the putty they use to fill the gaps of history.
The time between now and when.
A time where something, anything happens.
Walk on me, I’m here to move you on.

It feels as though we’re nearing the end.
Centuries before, fate was branded.
In its burned flesh we made our mark.
It’s come time to slaughter.
But we’ll be the squealers.

I’m coming through into nothing.
A mother abused by her young.
******* dry and sagged from their greed.
Fat, weak, and stupid now from gluttony.
Next winter will bring their snuffing.

So pull me out.
This pink portal.
Into somewhere I belong.
The nowhere we are right now.
The nothing we’re going to be.