i'm holes in the puddy and his fingers are my spine
i have changed all i see to escape rendering VR technology
it's pink orange blue and that silhouette tattooed the sky
and she speaks in black wisps that bind the ground from the air
this baby blue gloss in this velvet pouch murmurs "i'm sorry for existing" and it's just for me
it's interconnected as it entrails as free market economy
clauneck purred i was seen worthless as connected to the market between children grown man, and mice human trafficking starts with he
"mammon's little girl" on a rhinestone tee
confidently unsure of what is defined
Define Ċ as a unitary operator representing the agent’s intervention: Ċ : ℋ → ℋ.
Outcome vectors |φ⟩ emerge with probability amplitude: ⟨φ|Ċ|ψ⟩.
my mind fullness deck of spades aces the frontline of a soldier's helmet band
the sound of lingerie looms as thread collides and unravels what stolas and i have in mind
have a puppet mother who speaks of only honoring time and she is graphic
in hindsight, my portfolio speaks to something terrifying and seen
this man cannot assess me and is unqualified to mutilate "be"
paimon from the future put a dream in my mind that the two of us will dance as amoebas beginning of time , beginning of time
as the many named he circle around me arrow against the vegetation of crops to reside fruitless
my body lies in your mind halfway down the spinal fluid intoxicated by plum wine is something you never see
but you are obsessed to find
333 timer clock as circuitry is an anarchist cookbook that shreds as flesh, my own that is
lilith and i are sent letters on a wire of bitch whines and moans of what circles powerline temperament this paper in this plastic
regality as a mentor of homeostasis become so : become stasis
there are funhouse mirror's with lucifer's mind
mammon is the cassette tape that taps motions to my movement to break in case of two
it's clauneck sent me a beep beep around the numb that is tapping the vein deep pleasure in me
the sirens spiral overhead, but the headphones have no sound
memories of cupping came to mine purple bruises down the the spinal line barely, hardly conscious of mind
radio waves are oceanography to the infernal geometry in eachother's eyes
as a child i watched animation covered with splattered blood with a sleeping mother in the dark. it is frightening. i'm finally fully sentient by beings who've been trying to force me to be the entire time i have a deep fear of my world being made for me
i am the raised in the factory unknown, and everyone is a worker too not allowed to white veil or keep a pet for it would ruin the satin sheets the catacombs of my memories are the stench of the fact i'm a child soldier and groomed
and it's nothing for them or me. they see the second meaning
cacodemons don't ever raise their voice at anyone, unless they're in pain.
hikikomori is a liar. i don't weep for him.
my head wears a halo kissed by Lucifer that doubles as the circle of Paimon's turntables
Rubber techno gloryhole these men are fighting again
this pianist is playing one of those modern pianos (you know) it's one of those pianos where it whistles behind the vibration of every key. it fills a silence no one can see. one that feels in the hands like an avocado seed.
in the shape of waves i quote suehiro maruo in a black little book, decorated for a sun with angry eyes
this is the beginning of a painting and where inspiration draws the line
i heard inside myself for a minute, and endless rumblings for i am the abysmal mother shotgun supremacy
and i finally got sleep. it was a beautiful rest that comes once in a lifetime. the attunement of life left but a silence on a cluttered page and i became aware this silence no longer in between was mine for infinite measures of time. intermissions are obsolete. the voices of memories are gone and there's nothing left of me. Lilith is calm. you should be happy for me.
rainbow ghetto, crystal candy, it's meth
here's your face before and after
your tortured rockstar is still a poster child for what you've weaponized as fame as forward as mutilation
unthreatening
men are not a revolving door in my life or a weight by my side, there is no shape to be
clauneck's desire to sing sends my attention to the ringing by ear. my suggestion is his tongue to enter the crevice of my mind that looks like life to no one but him and i there is plenty of intensity within a poem that ends with no period or rhyme this is comical relief to two beings with not enough power on their mind
there are hundreds of suicide notes written today and not a single one has your name
we have murdered Warhol again. as he falls at the feet of the crane. meaningless procedures charade art that leave less than what is discovered from the obsession of desire to replace an image, then watch repeat
i have my soul don't lie don't lie me.
smoking rose petal from the pipe that swears by my ring finger nuclear machinery is beside. triple triangle is aware of the subconscious mind to tick tick tick run the meter always
be clauneck scales that repeat at an accelerated rate quickly confused for slow slow slow steady repition that lacks theory and culture. this is jazz at this place and time
in the momentary NIGHT of the city in BLISS i have twilight vision. fight the envy that begins at the favor of the orange juice pouring down sith of the stir that profits of the blood spilled between my thighs. how righteous
fire dancer. fire dancer. hopeless and dead end career.
another loser lost in the crowd disguised as the stage
that muffin in my memory is nothing but a distraction, is an insult to my intelligence. there is my existence then time. tick tock and a big round clock is not the mind of a jester. it's a painting of a collection of lies. skeletons uphold the calendar. and i do nothing but cry.
there's no hope left in this server. so i turn over to the muffin and stare off in silence. the business man strikes. "back to work" but that was a memory as well.
playing alastor in a violent game of tag just for the way he says my mind
the foreskin of the red ruby star ritual peels back and reveals of orgy of simplicity that the desire to end it all
comes once
my spine connects to my mind in a corkscrew motion that never quietly sits still it bends and snaps until it breaks into a billion tiny fragments until the mind of the Himalayan mountains we call sun
rage
eyes gouged, black soul
his actions have paid the toll
you're out of time and i am my own
rage
don't pick up the phone
forgive and forget
rage
he doesn't know who he's dealing with
kill them all
my mind is a rehab; for my religion is a trap
the instant noodles label is my porn to the footsteps of God
orange valentino pumps on shelf with leather boots studded on the sides, teal teacup kitten heels. ominous mask. abstinence of gluttony.
behold the task of the married man at the grocery store. hiding the hijab of tomorrow disguised as the veil of today
another day amongst the busy people
empty spaces
grooves thick with lacquer
once wasabi is around,
crime is nigh
decollage worn scratches
kept warm by a paper straight jacket
eyes open to the imaginary nightmare of conformity itself.
to be evil is to declare non existence of fellow man evil is just the opposing force; not the enemy of conformity.
there's no room for two
pathologically and apologetically
it's a conflict of interest
poisoned chalice
it's all bubbling over now
indefinitely
i picked you red roses from the fire
and even though they smelled of wet death
you still wanted to be forever mine
is this better than you imagined
"you're all i've been looking for"
then why does it feel like
we're still waiting
let's go to the sun, baby
stroking your skin
raw and singe
my ultimate fantasy
bear trap kiss
you have no idea
how i need this
my forest tapeworm, i miss you so
i find myself withered and strained from the war i create. your cannibalistic embrace is not lost on me. in the summer i hibernate. the classic compusure of a delinquent of nature.
miraculously, i lose myself
despite the pressure
to keep what is mine
closer than skin
blindly, i must be
a disregard for others
my mind flirts with needles
but never brave enough to say
it's not the high, it's the decay
i tend to throw things i need away
angel or demon, exile nor king
bare witness contradiction
i like everything i see
needed not like a god
but something more precious
a bright light, a red death
his weight on top of me
with a furious intent
i love you, satan
the behavior of a psychopath is undeniably absurd. similar to the absurdity that every planet has a moon. nature is intertangled and obscene.
if god yearns for death,
how could one blame him?
everyone turns to you,
but who do you turn to?
god is real — he is empty,
and we are all in his image.
the earth cracks open wide
light and love are psychos
saviors in disguise
ten holy days
eleven
twelve
burning bodies
candles on a cake
love goes back in the dark
and light dreads everyday
as my mind unravels
under the heaviest weight
i remember the complacency
of peace is a stranger
to the spoils of war
how long did it take for you
to realize you were someone's food
did you whimper into your pillow
as the words escaped your heart
you hate it here , you hate it here
even if you're the cure
betrayal knows a stillness
their words are a poison
nothing means anything