Manic Pixie Dream Girl,
I'm sorry I slaughtered
Your sweet-heart

You tasted like
electro-magnetism
when I pulled 
the sword from inside you
like ******* symbolism

In an anti-synchronistic
fashion
I lured you in
Led you on and 
broke the law 
of attraction

It was supposed to slay the dragon
not the anima

All you wanted was
to make me feel alive 
without drugs.

I gave into temptation
And let the patriarchal door 
Of oppression 
Smack your *** 
on the way out

The fire of my *****
went to my head 
And I killed chivalry dead

Long live debauchery

You just wanted to be
the light of my life

Now it's the shadow
And I
******* in light 
of your bloodshed.

Poured over the ground
Settling into stillness
Lasting lifetimes

Goo that prevents
Flowers from growing

I work for the machine
that bashes bastardized beauty
into the face of the masses

The status quo
of oppressing the Goddess
to some golden ratio
of ***** perfection

"We set the standards, baby"

An arrogance of man,
A battle born in blood
objectifying some sacred symbol,
The cosmic ****
we all crawled out of
as star dust

The holy hole
to heaven on Earth
Gaia taken advantage of
Rejecting the gift of consciousness

We'll de-evolve
like past-life regressions
like we're so self-entitled to 
come back around
Among the cosmos
cradled in the crescent 

Deny yourself the mystique of the feminine
The clashing of the anima and animus
The syzergy of 
the sun 
the moon 
and us
Call on your angels
And submit to the psychosis

My brothers,
These are our 
sisters and mothers
They don't want to castrate
The ******* symbol

Destroy the alpha male
And the omega oppression
The beginning and the end of
**** shaming 

I worked for the 
misogyny machinery of Moloch
My heart no longer beats here
It just bleeds for *her.

I can’t remember when everything changed. When humanity somehow evolved beyond us and harnessed power unlike we’d ever seen. When someone who was nobody somehow got the right to lock us in cages and have at it with any experiment they wished. It’s like we don’t even exist. Not technically, not to them. Just masses of flesh and unwelcome thought.

I can’t remember my name. Well, I can, but not properly, not like I should. But names don’t matter here. Numbers do and people don’t. I don’t know what I should think of that but they don’t care, I shouldn’t be allowed to think.

Age is relative. I can remember my age - just another number. But I’m smart enough to know that this number’s important. Because as soon as there’s another just as I was, they won’t need me anymore. But for all it’s worth, age has no other meaning. Here, we live for today and die for tomorrow, it’s a pattern that’s collapsed on us, suffocating until there’s only enough time to breath once before it’s our last.

I’m a recluse now. I don’t speak. My thoughts are choppy because I barely think. No, that’s a lie. I think a lot. That’s all I do. Think, contemplate, and observe.
Words. What use are words when no one listens to them? I haven’t spoken in months and even if I could, there are no words. My throat is raw and silent where my mind is numb and screaming from it’s twisted logic. Sometimes I want to die. But I won’t, because they won’t let me. I’m too important, here for the cause. We’re all here for the cause.

Try as we must
The stone will prevail
For we are but sand
On this solid veil

Built a cage in a cage
as an olive branch for
those who wouldn't call her an animal,
but won't call her a person.
Built a metaphor to slay her sister,
like trying to walk while hammering
your own toes;
hobbled herself to the master's home,
and played with the master's playthings,
and ate the master's food,
and received the hard end
of the master's humor
with a smile.

We are misinformed creatures-
A bird with wings to fly, but no destination.
A wildcat that hunts only to ****.
A serpent poisoned by it's own venom.

She traded hands to beat herself to death;
died with wrists broken,
lacy finger bones strewn across her throat.
No melody on her tongue.
Nobody dying to meet her.
Nobody is dying to meet us.