silence pains
and the blue light rubs against the black, still room,
slump in.
fart bags stew
ooze from wherever
and this nonsense means so much more
when you want to deny yourself.
Easy faults blame the pendulums
that crack into my back
and urinate my hate.
Dirt reaches its hands from below
and opens an underbelly of further
"oh no! what should i do?"
and crap as such.
Writing nothing
saying nothing
feeling nothing
am i becoming nothing?....
or is it that im too self sheltered that worlds in my head collide and
collapse cry babies into a pool of void
Avoid to hold myself as myself and ninja record players make me
bleed?!
cavities growing into mammoth, mythical, monstorised situations,
VAGUE-VAGUE,
its an incredible death dribble plague,
screaming you overwhen you dont expect.
i can feel my maddness vomiting into my throat,
and burn the insides,
sores piss puss,
and drying scabs stick around the sides and suck in memories
- eachtime i reminisce a choir of weepingwounds harmonise to the
melody of melancholyness.
jagged freezes jab 'til wheeze of beloveds blood in a painting inside
out, wrapped with outside in
mangled metal scraps,
death an black and anything?
is there any thing to guide or help the moronically moronic killing
inwardly, blindly, and stupidly.
BLIND BLIND ranting
ventilators are blocked with past living in past
crying , wallowing , hollering and harrowing
Bloody faced roosters convulsing souls, peck and fight the demons
eternally living and preying on defenseless helpless idiot fools.
nothing in front or behind or under.
where am i?
where to for now?
.....and from here?
maybe its to be this way, like blind mans bluff-
a constant guess to find rubied shoes
and the blue light rubs against the black, still room,
slump in.
fart bags stew
ooze from wherever
and this nonsense means so much more
when you want to deny yourself.
Easy faults blame the pendulums
that crack into my back
and urinate my hate.
Dirt reaches its hands from below
and opens an underbelly of further
"oh no! what should i do?"
and crap as such.
Writing nothing
saying nothing
feeling nothing
am i becoming nothing?....
or is it that im too self sheltered that worlds in my head collide and
collapse cry babies into a pool of void
Avoid to hold myself as myself and ninja record players make me
bleed?!
cavities growing into mammoth, mythical, monstorised situations,
VAGUE-VAGUE,
its an incredible death dribble plague,
screaming you overwhen you dont expect.
i can feel my maddness vomiting into my throat,
and burn the insides,
sores piss puss,
and drying scabs stick around the sides and suck in memories
- eachtime i reminisce a choir of weepingwounds harmonise to the
melody of melancholyness.
jagged freezes jab 'til wheeze of beloveds blood in a painting inside
out, wrapped with outside in
mangled metal scraps,
death an black and anything?
is there any thing to guide or help the moronically moronic killing
inwardly, blindly, and stupidly.
BLIND BLIND ranting
ventilators are blocked with past living in past
crying , wallowing , hollering and harrowing
Bloody faced roosters convulsing souls, peck and fight the demons
eternally living and preying on defenseless helpless idiot fools.
nothing in front or behind or under.
where am i?
where to for now?
.....and from here?
maybe its to be this way, like blind mans bluff-
a constant guess to find rubied shoes
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