White *****, red spikes,
flight stalled, death blight,
tight walls, bed bites,
night falls, headlights
burn in my brain
I learn from the pain
and my burdensome shame
that this quarantine game
feels horribly same
to life in my lane.

Everyone wears masks
everything is sanitized
I have one simple task
and it’s my ****** demise
while the planet cries
I stand aside
infantilized.

I hide in my holler
counting my dollars
counting on scholars
to make me taller
but for each one that builds me up
there are three to cut me down
so I’ll drink from their cup
and hand them their crown.

If I go outside I’m browbeaten
but I feel boxed in
from the callous crowds’ treatment
pulling my **** skin
promising it’s not spin
until their battlebot wins
then their cattle **** grin
spreads like coronavirus kin.

So I sit here homicidal
inside my domicile
thinking God is vile
for this awful trial
that some call a pandemic
but it seems like my existence
where I look for a grand medic
but only find social distance.

I live out of a shopping cart
and sleep in a broken down car
I pray for a stopping heart
to end this life where I starve.

I’m outdoors people
because I ignored the steeple
and implored what’s evil
by sporting a needle.

I try to keep my windows up
in this lonely truck
but it gets hot as ****
and sometimes they get stuck
and I have to deal with bugs
that see me sleeping snug
and start reaping blood.

I can’t feel their biting tinge
while I’m sleeping off a binge
so mosquitoes feast on the unconscious
was it God who brought this
locust plague so noxious?
They eat my sleeping body
the way they eat the rotting.

The mosquitoes torpedo
into me like a needle
a million eels
poke into my skin
which has been unsealed
so they dive in
showing their hunger is real
and they’ll win
they cover my shins
and blanket my arms
their proboscis pins
build a blood farm
built on my harm.

I open my eyes
to my insect surprise
I detest these flies
covering my size
so I shake to try
scaring them from my sty.

A plume of black
lifts from my body
it’s blood I lack
to get them off me
so I’m left to their mercy
and they continue to hurt me
attacking en masse absurdly
eating the unworthy.

I feebly swat them away
while my body decays
I’m dispersing the fray
while hurting in waves
brought by a flood
of those that **** blood
I start to feel sick
but I guess I would anyway
when the needle sticks
this is the start of everyday.

The world is a waiting room
where we wait for the end
there is no ending to all the endings
the reception desk is located near the exit
in case of a fire
while the doctors sit in the back
arched over their notepads.

The waiting room is getting crowded
as the mosh pit inside
infects one another
jockeying for position
like horses racing to their stall.

The waiting room is getting hotter
from clients with essential oils
and patients with black lung
the air conditioning works overtime
eventually breaking
leaving us overheating—suffocating.

Sitting, staring into space
waiting in the flatline
watching decay repay
our waiting room ways
the building starts crumbling like a glacier
while we wait for its weight to fall upon us.

I close my eyes to find you there
and find despair
I open my eyes to see you’re not there
and find despair.

My house is an empty home
made of stone
without you in it
I become a cynic.

I look
and see nothing
so I shook
any feeling of loving.

Life is pain
life is sorrow
so I watch the rain
and pray for tomorrow.

We are afraid of new information
for fear of what lies in the unknown
fundamentally
this is expressed through horror movies.
New information is a chance to scare the audience
utilization manifests in
turning on the headlights
(What is in front of us)
or closing the medicine cabinet
(What is behind us).
Some people tell themselves what they’re seeing isn’t real
others use comedy to cope
with the new information acquired
and the horrors that lie within it.

I feel depressed
I need to get out
but once I join the rest
my head’s filled with doubt.

I go to a party filled with fluff
and people worshipping stuff
is just going enough?
Or should I act like a ****
to get out of this rut?

I want to be me
but I want to be loved
how do I get free
from anxiety’s glove.

Should I be the crazy guy?
Or the wild card?
If I use charismatic lies
will they be charmed?
I look for ways to disarm
my anxious self harm.

I tell myself I’m trying
but in my mind I’m crying
laying on the ground writhing
wondering why I’m not finding
an interpersonal binding.

I start to wander
without a responder
I’m at the Battle of Gondor
and can’t find an orc
I see the flight of the condor
but I’m just a stork.

Do I need to stay?
Or should I lead the lame
and flee away?
I bleed out shame
at the speed of rain
when I see my game
bringing pain
to my strung out lane.

I tell myself I don’t fit in
so I grab the gin
to grasp a win
putting my paralysis
through dialysis
to try some bliss
yet something’s amiss
so I clench my fists
and start getting ******.

I say I’m above this
these people are loveless
I blame my brothers
and name them others
as shameless lovers.

I develop an air of superiority
as a defense mechanism
I feel them stare toward me
after I’ve made my decision
this is the attention that I crave
this is my version of being brave
no longer shall my presence be staved
and I’ll take this mentality to the grave.

This world is defiled quite
when the wildlife
try all night
to exile light.

A bunch of pompous pawprints
mark cacophonous coffins
where differing dolphins boxed in
fell to a bomb with topspin lobbed in.

The waxy ghosts
make flaxseed toast
while black sheep boast
that they’re lacking most.

The hyenas just laugh
at the beleaguered giraffe
sticking his neck in the path
of a snake oil salesman’s trap.

Now the derelict spiders
are perilous fighters
but carnivorous biters
lit them with lighters.

The alabaster wall
makes ever-after small
and lesser actors tall
through the collapse of all.

Now Cerberus
returns to us
as we burn to dust
for serpent trust.

So the deadened world is dismantled
like someone stepped on an ant hill
with a deafened anvil in a stampede standstill
because killing animals is the jaded man’s will.