the more I try to flesh out my creator the more I find myself estranged, there are times I am horrified but I hope against hope we are not really just a string of reality TV
though I have proof we are always being watched, changing the channel requires another suit, another set, a change of patterned tie. How insatiable our audience.
If you’re upset I swear you’ll wake up soon. Don’t let it win. I promise you’re going to remember everything. You’ll finally see yourself outside of yourself like a husk. Time is not fundamentally real.
Goodbye for now.
if Yellowstone blew up
tomorrow we’d be the next Pompeii
it’s already rumbling underneath
though it’s silent
& our catastrophic angels
are consistently calculating
volcanic ash’d blacken the sky
the most beautifully eerie sight
as we turn to stone
arduous in black and white
true to life
I got a sweet tooth
and I can taste your blood sugar
never knew stars could align
I’m waiting for flashing lights
& rebel music
to mark your entrance
but I know you’re ecstatic in darkness
palms out/fingers stretched
pulling smart strings
like piano wire
and when they press
choke the surrogate | leave the child
we were born
before the sun
TW: suicide mentioned
I am aware that I am doomed & out of order
for all my efforts
have taken me nowhere:
I know what got me
to this place.
Picking fireflies off of the concrete
bigger than I expected to be
I feed the spiders you kill.
My lot was inherited. I think this is hell. I sleep in tiny increments. I am not guilty yet I was captured and released to fail. I don’t have the strength to be angry anymore. My creativity doubles as a death sentence, rest in peace assured these words are my investment. I wrote my name on God’s dotted line. When they find me they will not check for prints. They’ll label it suicide.
I know as long as I live
I’ll never forget how much I
hate it here
Scientists are satisfied
there’s INvisible barriers
just not strong enough
to keep love from love
It makes me laugh
I can sense your mission like the plague waiting to see if someone senses your apathy for what’s beyond
I sense we are on same level even if the difficulty you chose is different
We play the same simulation
& now I can hear the scream of the crescendo
dampened by wandering hands &
mischievous eyes over the borders
of your mark
We speak the same language in the right tone/
we sing along
& when we reach the right lyric
Sleep alone: you require the comfort of dreams, not me, in fact I think you’ll be just fine without/
What good is lost
without a map to civilization
what is human but pavement
where a brain can scatter like
open jars of silky marbles all across
the barely lit highway
organs dry-abandoned alongside the carcass
& in the milky eyes of the corpse
for some, not soon enough
pain has a desperate chime
like sordid breathless rhyme
or tedious monotonous time
sucking breath like
a forested Chinese sinkhole
Is it because I’m sedentary
barely anybody respects me
who says they’re worthy, loose leaf?
burying a sure – fire cancer
& maybe being flattered is
a relief on the pressure
in my mental crumbling temple
gold and jewels there wrought
know, if I was you in your place
right now, I’d fucking crumple, too
I think too long before I speak. My diction is on parole & I yearn for eloquent & perfection is always near 2nd. I can’t help but strive to be [excellent] so do me the honor of pretending you can’t sense my judgment; play this game with me. I exude a poor act like an absence of confidence, my inner monologue is no fan of me either. The voice has disappeared.
Silently it tells me these bad dreams are abandoned children of an illness haunting my genes / I try not to buy in & believe. All those seductive lies are gone, too. They were pretty once. Meanwhile I’ll smile for the camera and twist your umbrella in bad weather. I want to fly away lodged somewhere between whore and Madonna. Peeking through blinders over the neighbors; never said a word. I guess I’m too like my father. We both have switches fatefully placed. Flip them at will.
Can’t bake without a recipe; I bring no pastry that isn’t laced. My heart races even when I rest and I assume around the corner a medical emergency awaits. My doctors assume death embraced or nothing is wrong since I never call… I couldn’t foot the bill either for good health or the marble-colored limousine through the gates of hell at my funeral.
I gave it all I got for certain.
RUN, beady black-eyed
once my trap snaps