I let you crawl under my skin
Like a parasite under flesh n bone
Slithering up my body to my jaw
Where you make your nest
Where I grind my teeth

in waking life we are well fabricated lies,
personas perfectly tailored to the world's expectations.
it is when we sleep that we know our true selves;
our innermost fears and desires, the intricate complexities
of our daily lives woven into an elaborate metaphor
left for us to decipher. these cinematic masterpieces of the mind
often leave us with more questions than answers.
but every now and then, the subconscious realm leaves us a crystal clear message impossible to ignore.

The verses write themselves
Words of life
The writer
Possessed

Darkness.
Do not
be so afraid
of the darkness within
embrace it.
Sadness.
do not
play hide & seek
with the sadness within
face it.

So that when light & happiness enter, darkness & sadness can leave & not live there in disguise.

Hummingbird has a message
Things aren’t as they appear
Hot lava on marble stairs
Man knows the end is near

A hole is in the floor
The case is not packed right
Hurry, hurry, time to go
Don’t want to miss the flight

The daughter leaves the pack
The mother watches with fear
Aperture click, perspectives switch
The pack is bad, no coast is clear

Hummingbird dips and dives
Fury boils, screams enter ether
The drain is clogged, the bridge is broken
Distractions nibble, gnaw and eat her

Then sparkling violet flowers
Cascade from the long black hair
Running fast and leaping far
Bionic energy in the air

One spirit in three persons
Find the baby in the brush
Flat bike tire, dusty road
Must go faster, in a rush

Road too steep, car too weak
Never ready for the journey
Lava’s rising, getting closer
Bend the mirror, twist the time key

Now you appear as you
But you also are in others
Woman, child, mother, daughter
Humming bird knows how to hover

I had a dream about a memory
So vivid I recall conversations
My subconscious made up a story
And turned it into nightmarish creations
Mimicked the past, I got lost for too long
Paralyzed, I'm no longer strong

1
I’m not one to tell
But some people really deserve it

I’m not one to be so fell
But some people really need it

2
Sometimes I think I could ****
Sometimes I think I am wrong
But now I know I was right
My just bloodlust is useless to fight

3
I paint your face white
I paint over the neon mess
I tackle you to the ground
Ram your head on the seething white floor

I want to crack your skull
I want to hear it snap under the weight of my hands
Alas I am weak
But not weak enough to **** you quickly

4
My knees are digging into your chest
My hands are around your grizzly neck
Asphyxia is a good solution to some problems

Choke, you old *******

I won’t let you go so fast

5
I drag you by your hair into the lift outside my unit
It’s really dark
It’s way past midnight and everything is quiet
Everything is quiet when you’ve lived so noisily

6
The red lights from the buttons glow slowly and gently and I press the first floor gingerly
The automated voice says “first floor” in that funny little way it always does

7
The lift descends, with me and you
It is like a passage to hell
For the both of us

We’re not dead yet
But we are corpses
Both of us

8
The stars are so pretty tonight
You can rarely see them so clear
But tonight every corner of time is enveloped in a
Gluttonous cocoon of darkness

9
I haul you out to the shady alley where
Nobody sleeps but nobody listens
And I wait
For the dogs to smell you

The dogs are tearing your flesh apart
Like bubblegum
I want to feed you to them
See their canine fangs sink into you
But even the most vicious hounds
Will never use you as meat
For fear of the evil laced in you

You’re not dead yet
I told you I wouldn’t let you go just like that
You can scream all you want, old man
Nobody sleeps but nobody listens
A timely taste of your own medicine

10
You can’t spell illegal without legal

11
In your last moments I **** your mouth with a knife

Animosity allergens,
dark as the Dracula’s dungeon,
insidiously infects the heart.
Vivacity begins to part.

In the realm of my subconscious,
I've confronted my madness.
There’s a monster in me that should die-
my morale withered and dry.

My spirit polluted with hate-
toxic as organophosphates.
The psyche is a perpetrator
who lusts for the power of ******.  

Drowning in the depths of darkness
of my wild imagination,
I’m shocked by this revelation!

The epiphany of my evil-
influenced by the vile devil,
my ego- sinful and gruesome.
Dear Lord, what have I become?