Aching Truth

I want to scream until my lungs explode.
Let the air bags in my chest explode
and just bring me back to life
with the soul shaking force of pain.
Just wake me up with a scream.

I'm running blind,
living it
because of how dead I am.

It isn't just here and now
it has always been.
Every moment awake
just lost in you and just whatever drug you take.


I hate how weak I am. I just feel dirty because I don't have any sense of control. I just feed my lusts and indulge in whatever I want.

I feel so alone and scared right now because I feel like you should hate me and you always will. There is truth but it is so unknowable right now that I would like to simply die.

Everything is coming undone,just spinning out of sync.

I'm crying but there is no one to wipe the tears away. Every last burning desire is going to lead to this burning mass of fetid death.
If there was justice I never would have been born and if there was justice I would have been still born and never would have been forced to live out these days. These wearisome and troubled days.

Please do not forget me Jesus.
As I lay here gasping for breath.
Please remember me.
When I draw this final breath please be here to hold m hand,
hold me.
I know I am going to forget what it means to die,
I'm going to be lost in pain and regret.
I'm going to be human.
So please do not leave me alone in that hour.
That moment when the air leaves my lungs
and all that I know is the fear of no more.
Would you hold me close?
Hold me tightly and be my love?

I am so tired.
I have nowhere else to crawl to.
PLease do not forget me while you can.

Brewing Darkness

It's so good to know...
It's so nice to know...
Everything can be so perfected
in your syncopated
little mad world.


Every last piece of my soul wasted
dragged across this broken glass,
that are your nails,
every drop of blood
swallowed by these little pores
is something else
I would miss if I could feel.

I don't have the strength to vomit
but God I wish I could.
Wretch out every last emotion
every last piece of me
and just show
you how fucking
complicated I am.
I'll never be something you dissect,
some neat little project worth seeing.

I am.
That is it.
I am.
All I'm going to be.
This perfect mess.
This failure of complicated ends.
The beginning of nothing
but this final end.

Screams syncopate
into madness.
Blood collects where I have crawled.
This breath burns my lungs
because it's not longer air
it is just masked pretension
that is nothing more than the best interests
of better intentions
wrapped in whatever it is you use to sleep at night.

Every second we spend in this wasteland makes us worse.
We bite into each other,
rip out soul out...all for what?
To be a game for specters that we can never see.
But you don't see.
You do not see them egg you on,
see their delight at the blood letting orgy.
You don't see their yellow eyes gleam
in dying twilight as they set their eyes
on ripping our your throat
just as soon as you have finished feeding on me.

So what is it?
What is this?
We are just going to eat and dine on the others flesh.
Drink the blood with the wine?
Eat the flesh with the bread?
This juxtaposition of a poorly raised metaphor
that never should have seen life.
Because the dark is eating the light.
Every last momentous pain.
These demons smile.
Because they see what you can't see.
They rejoice in the pain.


But God,
if my soul was any darker
you would be cut by its shade.
You would feel the hate brewing inside
and would die from the heat.
But instead,
I'm judged for me being me.
I never said I was anything less
But here I am just being me.
And that is a crime, even if you don't think it.
Or say it.
Me being me was never enough.
It cannot be enough.
With insufficiency.

But God I try,
oh will I try.

Why am I here?

It would be so much more simplified...to me at least...if I was more than what I am...more than this loose collection of cells with a soul...I'm so tired...so fundamentally alone...