Whats the matter with you,
little cloud,
heavy today
close to the earth
closer to us.

Closer to the same people
who will wax lyric about
violence
to the kids they're trying
to send to war.

Closer to the wolves.

Wherever you send the rain,
know it won't wash away
the sins of those
who believe in sin.

Drop your weight and
float somewhere
far from here.

Wrapped around an
overdeveloped
finger.
Possesed, yet
wholly worthless.

Next to me, you are nothing.

Sin as something
gorgeous to death.
Crafted from curses,
lizard tongues and
snakeskin.

Soft as satin.

They broke his bones in a bathroom stall
with pipes and left cigarette burns
on his eyelids and I
washed my hands, cleaned the blood
off of my shoes and shrugged.

Some days is all you can do to throw
your body on a cursing poor *******,
but most days you seem like you know
humanity is going to eat itself alive
so you just close the door and stay
in bed for a few more hours.

They say his lies have gone too far
and they know they don't know
whether he's gunning to give up
or run away and try again somewhere
where freaks on the inside stick
out like circus sideshows.
Home is not where we belong.

Christ got nailed to a cross
and I stared and said, "So what?"
that day and every day since
I've been cursed to give zero *****.
I tried and it almost killed me too,
if you know whats good for you
keep to your own.

This world isn't made of flesh,
it's made of dirt and fire,
you'd do good
to keep that in mind.

We had no chance,
and it takes and it takes and it takes,
it takes pounds of flesh and leaves
polluted waste in it's context.

Permission slips into seizure
-please let it be a scream-
grind organs on permadeath
and instant failure
without an afterlife
or consolation.

Consolation prizes,
trophy in defeat;
Suspect yet accepted.
Gifts from your enemies,
presents from your past,
disorders from reprise.
Changeless.

Undetectable by the naked eye,
you slip threatening euphemisms
[Bruce Lee yelps and noise]
into the softer parts of my body.

Sleepless unlike god-fearing mortals
drink wine fermented of kitchen tears,
fermented in Dixie cups
held closed by the pressure;
image of a social butterfly
with wings torn off by
childish tyrants.

Sneak into my tonsils
and tear out every crown
on your way to my lips.
Pillage and loot and riot,
bleed from the mouth.
Held together by wire.
Sewn shut with iron.

Eyes as two independent souls,
each a decoy of the other,
hidden, even to themselves.

She was a trap built from
tigers and rusty pieces.
Feral, rotten, effective.
Eyes me like prey,
and I am.

I am falling slowly,
so slow they think I can fly
so slow they think I glide through
life and love with my feet on a
carpet of marbles and oil.

21st century type.
Sharp like a knife,
but not like a suit.
The music is so loud
it’s muffled.
It is smothered by itself.
I lost my wallet and limbs,
and they were replaced with
alcohol and prosthetics.

Gheists flooding
the contraption,
singing mantras
in tongues.

Now I seek a greater machine;
Skin carved from marble,
and lips from bleeding
citrus fruits,
acids becoming
nourishment.

I'm so happy you invited me,
I've been basking in netflix
and swimming in coffee
marinading in the bathwater
I was using to drown something
close and special to me.

Gave me a reason to open the drain,
take a shower and take off to the city.
I can gawk at your underage drinking
buddies and eat whats on the table.

They'll pass out on the balcony
or whilst ******* in the bathroom,
while I take the next train to
see a professional nothing
to fix my dreams
and the ones I have
while I'm awake

will be lost, but loved while they're alive.

I'm so glad I could catch the last
bus out of this train wreck,
and sleep sober under youtube's
angry celestial glow.
Listen to coconuts buzz acid low tones
and low-fi digital screams till I can't feel
a low tone or remember
a real scream.