I am rotting beneath this house,
Under the floorboards lies my form.
Pieces strewn around recklessly,
The walls, the attic, the garage.

I feel the maggots over my fragmented body.
They chew at the regrowing flesh.
Preventing me from stirring,
At least enough to push them off.

I try to reform my flesh back into a heap,
But the maggots tear me back apart.
I hear their whispers against my bones,
It was not tasty, not filling, not enough.

Yet they wont let me leave.
Only allowing me to sit still in silence,
Being devoured,
Devoured by the growing hoard of maggots.

Dude, cultists are so awful.
Double-speak, indirect action,
All this horrid pageantry.
The intelligence is so lacking,
The feebleness so evident.
Not only in the strength of their arguments
But by the content of its body.
Frankenstein & the monster.
Very stupid.
Arrogant, ignorant?
Yep.
Short-sighted, unintelligible?
Absolutely.
It would stun to think
If it weren't so simplistic.
To take such a reductionist view
On things so complex,
I do understand that need for you.

Baseless threats
And poor attempts at intimidation.
Meek control
Where everything is construed as favor.
Cannibals,
Obsessed with their palate & others' flavors.
Barbarians,
Bastardizing the words of others.

But to run with it
After you understand it,
You're a ******* imbecile.
To not build upon it
But to take it as gotten:
You don't get anything.
It shows.

you don't know fear
until you're being hit on by an old man
in a place of worship

I walk into the yellow kitchen
Soft buzzes come from the refrigerator
It smells of rotten memories
Maggots shroud the sink drain
My mother stands by the burning stove
Cigarette in hand
Mosquitos glint in the hard light
The windows closed
Yet you could see
From the outside
Dark shadows
Deformed and tangled
Knots in my scalp
They hurt to think about
My mother itches to pull them out
The weeds on my head
Are untamed and reek
Of ash that falls
Faint glimmers of yelling
Sprinkle the ***** floor
Another inhale
More glimmers drown
The air in the kitchen
She turns off the stove
And yells at the smoke
Covering her hand
I cover my ears
At the sudden shriek
Tears fall as I realized
I hurt my mom.

bags under my eyes
glitter on my nails
impulsive thoughts
and my room is gross
I'm a star rock star?
well, not so far
but if I get the chance
I will be one, I guess

We had a mission, but
We didn’t know.
It was like the dialogue
Wasn’t there, or
We skipped it.

After leaving the
Second floor as
Stallions
I threw the core
Into disarray as he
Became a lizard.
While I was monkeying
Around I found
The cure
To then hear
A cry for help.

The objective made
Itself known
As I followed the
Neighs to outside the
Armory wall my horse
Friend found himself in.
The elevator doesn’t like horses.

The objective asked
What we were doing.
“Just horsing around!”
He said.
“Gross.”

just a line
just some item to buy
to place your grubby fingers upon
when the reflexes get
too repulsive not to surrender to
then lay those surfaces upon my heart
greasy fingerprints
then disown me,
only an object of desire

let the rhythmic pause of neurons
define your sense of being
just
please
don’t infect me

Fairytales and picture books
Don't tell the whole truth.
Sometimes,
Toads are just toads.
They don't always become your prince
After you kiss them.

It's a funny idea, really -
The notion of finding love
In a murky pond.
Lonely bogs have lonely frogs,
I suppose.
Did you have any doubts
As you traced the surface of the water
With a fingertip?
When you took him in your palms,
Did you not have second thoughts?

It takes a mental blindfold,
Opaque enough to block out reason,
To hold a toad so dear.
He might be charming at first,
If for nothing else than for the idea
Of what the two of you could be.
But soon enough,
The emptiness will settle in.
He won't call you pretty,
Or hold you close.
He'll leave a little trail of slime
Wherever he goes.


And at the end of the day,
I'm left wondering...
Why the **** did I kiss a toad?