Tall and dark
A handsome face
She walks amoungst the thorns
Pricking them first
Laughter in angst
Remorse in the joyous

Eyebrows flare, eyes rolled to white
She dulled the jewels on the beetles back
She convinced the bird to veer from flight
She crushed the soul of the earth’s core
Crunched it like a pit
And let bloom decay.

Pale mist echoes silently
So still...
It’s this us?
Because we're nothing
Can the air decay?
Because I want us to die
Us to
vanish during the night.  
Can the air please decay?
and make my infatuation rot and let the black flies fly around me
A least it would make something real
Which is the thing I desire the most.  
Me begging on my fragile knees
Please make the air decay
Because living in this world of wonder is causing too much pain to bare.  

-We were never a thing (we never had a chance because I killed us by having no confession and you killed me by not noticing my loving gaze)

As this world degrades,
And we've had enough of the old ways.

I can only wonder what becomes,
After this new birth,
Decays.

I know this world's rules,
And those before,

And I may know of what comes next,

But I will not know what rules,
As they call the next of next,

The fool.

I wake up in the morning,
Swiping spiderwebs from the corner of my eyes.
All the flies attract the predators.
I brush one off my shoulder,
Not out of fear, but out of convenience.

It’s happened before,
where a thought sits and stews.
The sun bakes my brain
And the garbage inside attracts buzzing flies
Swirling around my head.
People’s mouths are moving but all I hear
Is the constant drone and thrum of decomposers.

And before long, slugs and snails and worms creep through my ears
Thriving on the decay,
The rot of my brain.

As with everything, rot comes and goes with the season,
And I simply wait out the stench of spoiling thoughts.
There’s the option to rake out the old,
Clear the paths of my mind,
But I’ve found that as soon as it’s cleared, it’s back again.
Like leaves in the fall.

But it comes and goes,
And comes again, and goes again,
And before I know it, the rotten thoughts are replaced by ones of hope.
A breath of peace and hope.
Life.
My brain blooms,
And the rain waters my face.

Instead of waking with spiders,
I feel a gentle breeze.

It has been there for days, wasting away.
Bugs are summoned by the smell of decay.
Furry growth in a moist state,
Flies regurgitate.
Buzz, buzz, buzz all over the Charolais.

i truly hope that your skeleton festers beside mine
and our dirt clogged fingertips mould together
even after we lose the ability to grip.
wouldn't it be nice to rot with you.

When my hands
succumb into numbness,
When my feet
descend into paralysis,
Would it catch your sight?

Will my little whimper
fading into silence,
Would it touch gently down
on your ears?

When the last
Spirit and Breath
Dissipates

Will anyone bat an eye?
Would it mean anything

Around the cacophony, as I die?

unbearably unbearably hard
very hard to see decay
very terrible very terrible
see blood blows fight
unbearably unbearably hard
how hard and terrible very terrible
see dying eternal death
eternal death all around
will never be the end

and when the sun shone and childhood
it was and when the wind was blowing but light
and when the mountains and greens with us
sang sang sang just sang different
there were no songs of all this
there is never a feeling that we
immediately appeared adults and only
with childhood memories but no
childhood was not when there is blood

22.11.18