for if I remain here without you, surely the weight of my heart will drown me.

With my eyes shut relaxed
Radicolous teeth reach from the unconscious crevasse
Gnawing commences slowly, the sound saporine
The taste of its meal much too weak
Is this how I taste?

Of the abyss you see,
Nothing enters anymore and nothing ever leaves
Reception long gone and only recept remains
Would you watch the gaps in the brain,
Or would you drop down?

What's worse is the waking life abstracted even in want
(Would you want?)
Falling apart forever down climbing vines covered in barbs
(Would you, would you?)
Exsanguinate when caught

I'd lend you lungs and saliva
But we can't breathe in here
We can't share in here
So imprecate with me
Plunging
On

Eyes in the stark dark stare from Hell so hot you have no chance with the safety top
Before the plastic melts
Never recalesce

I leave trails with tracks
Of ruby and slick
No way to go back
Across rivers of Styx

My mark being left
Through pine forest dale
Each lost drop of blood
With skin growing pale

Your words are like ticks
Your frowns become leeches
Each weakening pulse
On sangria beaches

The needles you carry
Take their own little *****
You've drained all my blood
And left me anemic

exsanguinate the surrogate
splinter the soul-bones
and work with it
needle-nosedive into fretful
twitching and switching severance
for fours in swords inverted
serving the Devil with the words
required to birth dark squirms
burrowed in womb-pores

pours out like death-herds
dread sires and banshee curs
cutting the air with knives
meant for draining knaves
walking through the woods
in waking nightmares untouched
by skies and sun and fires burn
in furnaces composed of sores

scores of men and their biological processes
spill terror into the streets of dawn
ringing the bell with the hammer
spreading the cure with corpse dust
carried in coffins made of stone
engraved with chasm-rune ruination incantations
deeply echoing with horror and doom
but they press on through the throng and windows

organize the organisms in your mind
then let them slip through the gray matter columns
slick with poison thoughts and psyche slough
muggy and mushy and oh so ugly it hurts
making morose musically intoned implorations
temptation is drinkable brain dew
that's best sweetened with salt from the womb

life from that tomb reduces all in its path
relaxing the children into wrath-ringed halo teeth-
chattering torture boxes maintained by the state
of uncertainty we knew and do in the dark
behind closed doors to knock out the cork in the floor
and drain down the rumors of war
and the failed diplomatic drug legislation
instigated by poor boy and girl peoples

this physical form cannot keep concluding
the world inside is made of door-wood forests
where the corners contain everything imagined
and the scene is imagic and spelled
u c now how it works here?
because I don't

cannot identify my identity
cannot conform to society-symmetry
try as I might I cannot die on three
or four swords inverted by
the Devil's hands of cards
holding the keys to card-house horrors
locked in the tomb of the womb
where demons assemble more
and hell breeds its herd
so we all can converge in bloodbath...

Babel-rapped righteous words worked into hurting ourselves