good night dreams

sleeping pills sleep in my stomach. waiting for snooze and hoping for dreams. hell holds the fuse of the bright bulb in a freeze of power, and wires, and liars, and fiends, until my face buries into a pillow of doze-off and I choke to death on a wheeze.

the judgement of the liar-boy

the innner, the outside window look down dropped out, and bombs screeched past our ears and enveloped our souls in their neverending whine. nighttime siloliquist, respect the dinner wine. slurped until the care-not takes over and passion climax. gnostic until tragedy, ready until the happening. stained glass drips with angel wrist-slit blood and mary's menstration. a spot of filth on the cloak of pure. kneel. commoner exchange memories for a ravenous band of children starved for the truth. writhing from pleasure, bound and bloodvessels popped stinging the surface skin. recovery mode takes on the sponge rung out in the infant's bathtub. soapy death. quiet fucking. lavender sleep, purely coincidental considering the chapter hadn't been completed. more fun by yourself, masturbating your warpped mind to flashbacks of your guilt. the beachhead is just a pile of rocks ground fine by the constant onslaught of moonpull tidal waves. the wives and goodbyes cannot save you, soul-less creature creep. ascend the staircase slow as not to disturb the judge. the gavel gets heavier as the air turns colder.

motionless floodbath

reach, and overreach and stand and understand. combine my outs with your ins and make a plush flush of ear static. magick. excited for Ishtar and sip the succulent. permanent marks on the bottom of my feet from the marching. another elephant burialground of memories and no-ones. everybody is staying after school today. a selective collective memory of a flood that happened so long ago that we can't measure the damage. the crops whitewashed into picket fence dreams and last kisses in the mourningtime before work. sourheavy metal pieces. we hate because we sincerely imgined the puzzle to be alot smaller and less cumbersome. heave workloads of statue pieces into wheelbarrels from which we will construct our meager dwellings. I've dwelt on the change of tide courses and came to the conclusion that our homes will never be safe. we will never be immune. our movements will be tracked by the network, and our lives will be weighed against our plainly-painted feather hearts. our wings will erode off our backs from the labor. our children will be chernobyled. and our limbs will wither into urbanrose dreams- unless we stop, stand back, and breathe...deep...

motionless floodbath

reach, and overreach and stand and understand. combine my outs with your ins and make a plush flush of ear static. magick. excited for Ishtar and sip the succulent. permanent marks on the bottom of my feet from the marching. another elephant burialground of memories and no-ones. everybody is staying after school today. a selective collective memory of a flood that happened so long ago that we can't measure the damage. the crops whitewashed into picket fence dreams and last kisses in the mourningtime before work. sourheavy metal pieces. we hate because we sincerely imgined the puzzle to be alot smaller and less cumbersome. heave workloads of statue pieces into wheelbarrels from which we will construct our meager dwellings. I've dwelt on the change of tide courses and came to the conclusion that our homes will never be safe. we will never be immune. our movements will be tracked by the network, and our lives will be weighed against our plainly-painted feather hearts. our wings will erode off our backs from the labor. our children will be chernobyled. and our limbs will wither into urbanrose dreams- unless we stop, stand back, and breathe...deep...