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. 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

oh, forgive me

anything is possible
is what that is