the hunchback moves with the pews
alongside children and their man
who, stiffening under his corduroy,
sits behind his services.
so lost in a translation and a tot.
hunched, i could wail
the miracle of touching in the blind.

beneath the steeple, i am told,
dirt in the eye makes it whole.
beneath the scabbed ground,
are families who wore denim
even in portraits
even when mangled with steel on the interstate.
above, i am so very lonely.

i am told they were buried in pairs.
the children’s man tells me the caskets
were closed for the service.
i want to tell him i never asked.
nevertheless,
he involves himself with the bodies
like a shard in the night.
he and the tender middle,
pinned among ashes and ashes.


(oh god can you see

the soil

and your shepherd’s hand heading down to meet it?)


the hunchback under paper bedsheets
is a behemoth of all exterior.
touch him, tangle with it.
peeled open to the innards,
and in resignation,
there are sadder truths under the skin.
small as nail clippings on the linoleum
and me tossing myself onto the spike.

in whatever misshapen ****** i barter,
i know i still breathe like you do.
placing it all here, then,
at the holy foot of
every physicality i am mangled with,
it is a simple confession-

that you can’t know how this could be tears me apart.

did you really believe
that time would stop?

did you really believe
we could get away with
it?

did you really believe that
mom couldn't express the
word "sin"?

did you really believe that?

we were invisible
we were invincible

we were dreamers
we were sinners
we were brothers
who had forgotten
how to write
their own names

do you really believe
that our past would
forget about us?

you can forget our past
our past won't forget about us

do you believe in
anything my brother
my sister?

My God: have I forsaken you?
I'm trapped inside my schemes
I searched too long for some place new
[To give up on my dreams]

I see the mirror mocking me
My heart is filled with snakes
I feel the Devil stalking me
He tells me my mistakes

I squander life so foolishly
With graceless malcontent
When solace runs so rapidly:
My ego won't repent

I live within obscurity
The world is cruelly trite
Please, God: relieve my apathy
I'm weary of my spite...

Tell me something
Sadly you can’t even tell me nothing
I rather ignore you vs. focus on you.
My blessings are never a imitation
Your image is imagination & not creation.
This is how it is, can you feel the vibration?
Dodging all the bullets, reaping what you sow
Building up a wall, running as you go
Sleeping in the mind, where nobody can find you
where did you go?
Image in the mirror, marbles on the floors
Peeking out the window, searching for a hero
Looking like a fool
Glory God goals
Cause Lord only knows
That I’ve been going hammer, someone check my grammar
She freaking through the cameras, phone in her left hand as she wearing sandals.
She hate working Monday's, someone please change this channel
She hanging with some snakes, can’t control who’s fake
Stays on the phone, but in public, can’t even conversate.
Never compromise, not enough faith
***, money, stress, can you meditate?

These are the times, to level up & shine
Never to rewind
Help's on the way, friend's on the way, parent's on the way
Baby girl, I got winners on the way!
You’re somebody, can’t you even tell?
You’re somebody, don’t you fall or you'll end up in hell!

You ain’t sick enough to put it on yourself
Go get your image it’s hanging on the shelf
Tell me when destruction is gonna go away
Tomorrow never promised, but we live today!
Peace to the world, King/Queen just rotate!
Loyalty, royalty, joyfully, our DNA...

I fell deep into your abyss
drowning into lust
I swim yet your torrent
drag me down under.

Beyond my last breathe
I resign to sigh my regret
I died in your arms
Loving you was my sin.

How strange a tide… apathetic to its core.
Novichok in the system — we’ve already hit the floor.
Not without warning for the interested few.
Sure, indigo on the spectrum, but black in our view.
Our prophets are wary, lamenting for the lot.
The glass thicker than ever: they’re forced to watch them rot.
Let’s not dilute it over biscuits and tea.
We’re addicted to passion; it drains both you and me.
Quit cold turkey; we’ll wither and die within the week.
We blew past the sabbath; so muddle on and be meek.
Telephone the skies, but the network is full:
We put off the harvest — our calls all but null.
“Don’t think just breathe and wait for the pull of the plug.”
There’s a way, truth, and life; but deafness is the most popular drug.
Our water is muddy; the dolls’ overjoyed.
Reject all the falsehoods; their eyes shimmer from the void.
I’m here to remind you there’s more than you think.
Dead end paths are common; they want you to sink.
Exist behind ego and you’ll miss the horizon.
Perspective’s a gift if you’re looking to wisen.
Races aren’t games for an aspiring professional.
Throw out your excuses you don’t need a confessional.
There’s anguish in the conviction; you’ll be forced to commit.
But sleep-walking is pervasive; few actually submit.

Lucy was a girl
With a bright red coat
Dark obsidian curls
You should note
Laughter like bubbles
Floating in the air
Innocent
And unaware
Her kindness sweet
She was never alone
She had the sweetest dreams
Where she and Lucifer would meet
He would whisper in her ear
And welcomed her to his land of heat
But sweet young Lucy
Didn't know
Her left from right from wrong
Sweet young Lucy
Didn't know the Devil's song
So our sweet young Lucy
When her coat was spattered with red
Didn't know when it happened
That her parents were dead
She bubbled with joy
And giggled so sweet
When Lucifer said her name
"Someday you will be my queen," He said
"After you play the Orphan's Game."
"I will see that if you win
You will be the ruler of sin."
So Lucy laughed and said of course
"Sweet dreams!"
She said,
To her parents while they bled
Now clueless Lucy played his game
And lied the homeless to sleep
To the blind man, she said
"It's safe to cross the street."
Feeding starving cats
Poison made for rats
Shattered glass
In the elderly’s food
Helping in the nursing home
Going straight down
Not even chewed
Puppies in wells
Where darkness dwells
Blooms in the water
Scarlet red
Bits and pieces floating up
The sweetest bit is the head
The joyous sound
Of high pitched screams
An infant lost
Purposely
Watch their mouths
Cut off their tongue
Jump from the top
The highest rung
Anyone will listen to
That sweet soft voice
Just a few words
Then they’re her toys
“Please, sir,”
She said
“Do this for me”
Immune to any sense of dread
She played his game
And told his lies
And the game had been won
But even then
When she was done
The chaos had
Just begun
She didn't know
What she had wrought
And pain and lashings
The devil man brought
But not to his queen
For she was his Lady in Red
Sweet young Lucy
Would never be dead
Lucy played
His Orphan's Game
Eventually sweet young Lucy
Soon grew up
And Lucy one day
Fell in love
Of course, it was Satan's luck
The Lady in Red with the softest touch
It was a gory romance
The Queen of Sin
Let the devil man's
Emotions in
And since dear Lucy
Was all grown up
She gave in
To Lucifer's lust
And when I say
That blood was shed
Trust me
And Lucy's sweetness
Was not dead
Some call her darling
Or his Queen of Sin
Some call her Lucy
Or God, even
God was a woman
With a blood-stained coat
The devil man's wife
Swimming in her blood moat
Where the bodies of her parents
Would slowly float
And sometimes scratched
The bottom of the boat
Lucy has won
The Orphan's Game
Lucy had played
without shame
Lucy had let
The devil in
And she became
The Queen of Sin
He spoke to her
Voice sweet and soft
“You are my queen,”
A rotting stench his breath would waft
Hard polished lips
On a baby soft cheek
A twisted smile
A giggle at a shriek
“Oh, Lucifer,”
She would say
Dancing to the screams
She would sway
She’d sing him pretty songs
Tales of gore she would spin
Everyone in his land of flames
Would bow down to the Queen of Sin

there are demons
feeding on my darkness
tasting my sins
hiding in my shadows
and whispering in my ear
I’m just having fun
and I don’t plan on stopping
so enjoy the feast