When my body sleep for eternity
Who will see my body,
Burning slowly, turning to ashes
While their memories of me flashes
Not everyone could be there for me
But I know for sure, there is my family
Ohh! How could they much endure?
When i'm in a state that can't be cured.
In my darkest time, their presense is enough
I'll be watching them because life is tough.
They sitting beside me talking to my tree
I can't talk back because i'm now free.

a body is an archive: unveiled
when i stumbled open--
claw-click, serrate-jaw,
wet antennae mapping paths i had never known.
skin, then flesh, then
(oh—how the soft explodes)
a threshold becomes a feast,
& i was alive for it.

they sang in that minor key,
the one tuned for
half-breaths.
sinews hummed electric as
the burrow began--
an architecture of frenzied mouths
churning absence into corridors,
each passage alive with the memory
of something never buried.

and is this not the nature of hunger?
to make the once-firm
a slurry of purpose?
they never meant to unravel
all i held,
but the burrow was me now.
(to be remade is to perish inside out.)

what the insects did not take
were pieces too sharp to swallow:
a wrist pressed to pulse--
the wrist itself forgotten;
an eye, emptied of meaning,
but still watching--
watching even as the body became
a hymn sung low
in thorax vibrations.

and there was no end.
no death.
no quiet.
only their small & perfect hands
reaching
(yes, always reaching)
for the marrow,
for the root of whatever i had been.

what remained was not myself.
but the insects
were full.

A pulse of darkness sleeping within,
Beyond the light, it's secret twin.
He who's sleeping all this time,
Awakes now, rising in his prime.
A shadow with horns, humming along,
So gentle, yet why does it feel wrong?
An aura so ominous it gives shivers,
So strong that even light withers.

It's the demon inside me, shrieking!
I can feel it rising, giving me power.
My heart is charging, it's striving!
The light is losing, it got devoured!
Those virtuous moments all forgotten,
In a single pump of the devil's deceit.
Look how your reality begins to rotten,
This is what it wants, evil is in heat.

A reflection, I saw my eye so beautiful
That eye of pure deception, how powerful.
I have absolute freedom, this is my peak,
Is this really the world? I see it so weak.
There's so many pawns in the game,
How exciting! I'll burn them all into flames!

How beautiful can it be?
The chaos of oddyssey,
That I thought was a misery,
Turns out to end in serenity.
When It all started within me,
To where I thought I was free.

A silhouette inside me who brings bliss.
It whispered saying, "join me in the abyss."
What harm can it do, so I agree,
It's fun and beautiful, like a fantasy.
I wish this could not end,
"It won't" said the silhouette friend.
Suddenly, my reality, it's burning!
As if my life is decending.

Someone save me, please!
My reality is not at ease,
I'm stuck at this disease.
Help is what I seize,
Look, i'm down to my knees,
Begging to exceed.

Is my shadow talking to me?
He brings a monster so scary.
It attack and demanded,
My comfort and joy, I handed,
It smiled and stop, he finally fade.
Why such sacrifice must be made?
The monster left me in peace,
Giving me life that I please.

How beautiful can it be?
So this is what they call reality.
A journey that you must see,
Where you practice vulnerability.
Embracing your tranquility,
The true path of serenity.

When one self-medicates,
Sometimes they grab the nostrum
Rather than the cataplasm.
Trying to clean the well, they mistake belladonna for myristica.
Perhaps it was the region or the season,
Maybe the water table atop which they were building.
Were it a town,
Perhaps its citizen lacked hygiene
Or had no care to maintain things.
Maybe they sparsely talked things over
And thought little of one another.
Of the many circumstances,
It could've been the building materials
Or the architects.
The dictates we lay out
For ourselves and those around us
Rarely are truly followed
In the case of relations between each other,
And typically less so
In the case of the larger world.

Plenty, long - it is pitiful.
Is it never better than to taste of it?
Empty, numb - it is pitiful.
Is it naught that is more flavorful?

In the living glass of the universe
I am a liquid,
Drink the drink.
By the marsh like mixture of life,
Split the iris,
Eye to eye.
As the electric echo of an echo
Waves as expression,
I am a particle.

I am the light

By the gypsum rose grown.
I am the order borne out of the primordial.
In weaves & webs perennial,
I am the pyramid doubled.
By the barycenter offset zero,
I am without mass & weightless.
In the predeterminants of the hypermatrix,
I am a bolt of lightning and the thunder.
By the storm of the ocean struck,
I am a standing wave in motion.

Material and immaterial.

Reaching for a clue
Whilst I strain my back
Forced to retreat
To remain intact

Trust, it whispers
So fresh it chills
Its alluring essence
It borrows and steals

Takes baggage from me
Releases the weight
Now finding my balance
In this new found state

With space been created
Brings roots to access
What ones are supportive
What ones are a mess

Slowly with ease
I remove rotted roots
To find new earth
To grow now what suits

Suits this way of being
Planted with pride
With healthy foundations
I take my first stride

Into the unknown
The great abyss
As I freefall, surrender
Not a moment to miss

In this present presence
My canvas stays blank
As I wait for arts landing
These new roots now sank