walk me down the alley, will you?
it’s so dark, and terribly true:
the walls close in;
the air cuts thin;
on a skin that’s weary of
a diabolical flu.

i’ll walk behind ya, all the way -
for i have nothing good to say -
of the ones who lurk
in dreary corners -  
where hope turns bleak;
i dare not speak -

for they can sense
my breathless words;
my every move;
even thoughts, unheard;
you must take caution,
stay low, stay far:
they might mistake us
for who we are  

almost there,
just a few more yards…
you may drop me off yonder -
that moonlit graveyard:
will be there, for a while -
don’t wait too long;
the night isn’t over -
things could go wrong.

LOTP vo[ɑ]miting verses; a strikingly formi—
[life of the party]
—dable, non-stop rising reserve in
terms of thrills & bliss-providing emotions
a megamart of endorphins in bo[ɑ]dily form, b#tch
an ultimate source of blast, like a bunch of explosives (kaboom!)
you're gonna need an ophthalmo[ɑ]logist service
in the wake of getting an eyeful of A̲[ɔ]ll this
inner li̲ght that I glO̲w with
like a ****** pI̲ne box that's furnished
with LEDs; I̲'ve got a story; it's co[ɑ]mic but... morbid
[consider yourself warned]
[blast, explosives, gunner ("go[ʌ]nna"), (a) wake, ****** pine box]
[get the picture?]
————————————————————————————————
awakened early, go[ɑ]t
out of bed, did some daily morning stuff
wet my somewhat dehydrated gorge with squa[ɑ]sh
then decided to take a morning wa[ɑ]lk
strolling through some great, sun-glowing spo[ɑ]ts
I notice twain alluring gals perambulating shoulder ta
shoulder, all murked out: make-up, clothing, lo[ɑ]cks
[murdered out]
and with their faces dolorous
think: "why are they so jO̲Y̲-bankrupt?"
after taking notice o[ʌ]f
the twosome, like a well-proportioned bo[ɑ]d
["toothsome"]
I put on a Ledger Joker mug
["mug" in the sense of "face"]
mask, outflank 'em, then make my way toward these go[ɑ]th-
-reminding lasses from behind in a sly-a## fashion
just li̲ke those dashing cowl-disguised assassins
[assassins from the "Assassin's Creed" franchise]
O̲nce I'm close enough, like self-sacrificing soldiers o[ʌ]f
islam, I explode releasing the co[ɑ]ntent noted 'bove
bawl: "LIT MORNING, QUIT MOURNING!"
so ear-piercing-lY̲ as thO̲U̲gh my nuts
were being twisted, hI̲t, then blown apart
they seemed to bE̲ in total sho[ɑ]ck
had these two squealing so **** hard
you'd think it's a visual-glory-o[ɑ]b—sessed princess woken up
and seen herself in a mirror old with rucked
skin; the ground's pretty firm & rough
with some edgy stones sticking
out behind 'em; while backwards-stepping, both trI̲p on
those freaking stones, then dro[ɑ]p
like a high-schooler's jaw when he gE̲ts a clO̲se view o[ʌ]f
a centerfoldesque fo[ɑ]x occupied wI̲th her yoga stuff
in the wake of tripping, bO̲th end up
with the backs of their bE̲A̲ns split open, blood
streaming, like getting stuff shown by li̲vestream
stand next to their figures frozen up
like a software piece, while both lie dying
find a lipstick in one of the dismal gI̲rls' pants' front
pocket, then make it look like both died smiling
awaken in the bedroom quarters o[ʌ]f
mine, it's dark, night; I̲ hit
the lamp's switch, then hear: "YOU JOKER SCHMUCK!"
said in a loud, low-pitched, fiend-like tone; my mI̲nd in
that moment's still in the sleeping mO̲de somewha[ʌ]t
which is grounds for why I̲ deemed
it's a wicked version o[ʌ]f
that bat guy here to get me iced; turn my sI̲ght in
["Dark Knight", i.e. the Batman; "Heath" (Ledger), who played the Joker]
[in "The Dark Knight" film; "bad guy", which ties in with "wicked"]
the voice's direction & see the murked-out broa[ɑ]ds
proceeding towards my sI̲de with
their **** peepers glowing blood-
-red, like "s'prI̲se, *****!"
like a Negroni, I stare at 'em thinking: "coldish slug!"
["ice there"; the "Negroni" drink is served with ice; also, it's red]
["coldish slug" - "holy f#ck"; "slug" in the sense of "shot of drink"]
[which ties "coldish slug" in with the ice-served "Negroni"]
utter a loud-voiced cry frightened
witless, or as much
as these goth girls fro[ʌ]m mY̲ dream
then I get pulled out of that creepy horror stuff
by the second awaking as I bawl: "F#CK! DIE, FIENDS!"

I thought I found love but
Only found my self  dead
On a hotel bed in a ******
Hotel room,
Murderer was the
One who I thought loved
Then I wake up in my own bed room
It’s 2024 and I am safe I think I am
But I am not sure
Memories of a past reincarnation

The coyotes
They shapeshift
In the Night
When there is no
Moon you can hear the
Yipping and yapping
Looking for food
Pure protein
Is only good for them
So they can change form

Full-moon light
Can create
Frightening and
Disturbing shadows that seem
To shape-shifting at a wim
As I walk the halls to get the bathroom
The full-moon exposes
The darkness of the corners
But yet the corners of our minds too
As I see these shape shifting
Shadows turn from evil
To horrific
I wish I stayed in my room

I was given at age thirty
Many vision
Many messages
Of the world to come
The first the pandemic
The war in Ukraine
And something much worse
I was also sent to tour hell
As I went through with
The protection of an arch angel
I see that gory scenes of just 3 circle and 9 sub circles
And a poison desert
For the worst of humans

During the bone moon
The people start to turn on each other
Killing each other
To feed off their bones
During the dead of winter the
Survivors of the bone moon
Will fall prey
To the wendigo
As the soon waste away
Winter is a dangerous time of year

As I walk down a rainy street
I see what looked like origami boats
Floating


Float float float
Until the boats
Reach the singularity
That is the storm drain


We all float, we all
Float down
And down we go!

tw: body horror

my knees weep, their purple hue give way to spilt prayers
and they taint, and corrode, and they don’t stop
among all that is good and all that is pure

my hands dig through black ash, dried earth, cracked stone, only then, decomposition, am i certain,
i know what the maggots know, and nothing else.

my head unravels. question after question. the left eye reads scriptures, tears through testaments, books, and golden halos. but the right eye sees burning light, then just darkness, then nothingness, then the emptiness of all that nothingness

my chest is a flower, sores and bandages pulled into the shape of petals. this is the birth of something new and the death of billions

shards of stained-glass crawl to me. in all their light and glory.
when they find their way inside, i will give them flesh.

deep into the earth, i pray. but all i find is a body, my body, a cruel replica.

i pull the glass from my wounds and pierce its eyes. I pull it out. It seems sharper and larger, the more it touches flesh. so I use it again. written in to every corner, my findings, the days that have passed, my hopes, my doubts.

this god knows suffering. if not one body, will another be enough? i have prepared my sacrifice.

i close my eye.

light seems to pull itself, from under the ground. even i can see it peek through my fading consciousness. but as it comes to darkness, all that i hear, is a whisper of my name.