EATER OF CHILDREN


Night Terrors

Screeching from hollow chambers
An open closet shifts with squeaking doors
Portals within a violet suction tube
I feel them crawling
Like lightning craquelure
Waiting for them to come
Standing besides my bed
With open eyes
in a dark-blue night
Summer winds stroking my sweat
Smells of blooming trees
in a bizarre sea
and then I see the clouds assemble
storming down towards me
Screaming for dawn to come


Brain Matter Stained

Suicide is too less
I crave for them to feel
my bodily fluids against the
wall,
running from their cheeks as they stare
in horror
Brain matter stained hair
The stench must be awful


Thirsting for Intimacy

With open legs
I embrace my instincts
Disgusted by the motions
Humidity adheres to my hide
The look on her face
reminding me of
children


Animalistic Mutilation

Can’t you see
those beady eyes
longing for life
Your hand
rubbing lifeless feathers
I remember
that one time
Grieving for death
Frozen stiff
What a sight to behold
Natural death
can be so
enigmatic


Rendezvous

Is it wrong not to miss her?
To have desires for
polygamous disintegration
Bereave myself
of right and wrong
I want to feel what’s underneath
Feel her inside
See what’s so deep inside


City of Reclusion

Deserted structures
Arcane design
Architectural decay
No place for modern man
Covered in
misty quagmires
In strokes of black ink
Sumi-e caricatures
A city of reclusion
where none will find beauty
nor utility
An open grain field
underneath an approaching storm
Waiting for death
Ankou


Memory Craft

The lonely paths on which we wander
are littered with
bliss
A hedonist view
on a person I never knew
tries to manifest
With a sickening feeling
I will try to do
what’s best
Both directions will someday
adjust to neutrality
Making up for a bland
history
And though I’ve never been happy
a stranger awaits to
take over
And his fingers will grasp my Adam’s apple
and squeeze me a road to heaven


Human Helix

Product of a taste
for new beauty
Withering sense for
ethics
Degeneration
Human carrion
as a work of sculpture
What a moronic thought
to label your work as art
Nothing new
A new state of perception
loose from all definition
Coiling flesh
The next step


Dark Sonar

An echoing bass
pounding into my eardrums
vibrating through my spine
with arrhythmic frequency
Moaning strokes of jealousy
I’d wish for them to leave my head
But I still hear the drums
sounding through the walls


Yellow Veins

In a restless place
she rests her head
with curling flowers
on white pillows
Her fingers crawl
along the cold steel bars
with discord
Attaching themselves like suckers
With rippled expressions
and dimming pupils
She died on that warm
April night
but I know now that she had never been alive
And when she rested her head
I could still hear the ice cream jingle
from blocks away


Fleshbinder

Her movements
mesmerize me
Her eyes make me want to
engage
I feel the effects in my bowels
streaming into my
lower parts
She binds my flesh with hers
and I struggle
But I want to feel her writhing
movements
inside of me


Shifting of Seasons

It’s been months
In the isolating cold
nothing
seems the same
Will I take the change?
But that takes so much
Time
Now I sit here again
Taking the time
To take the change
And when this season ends
You’ll find me
staring
Here again


Holloway

Elevated patch
that used to cut deep
into the earth
Where have you gone?
I like to think
I wished that I would
someday dance
with roots spurting from
your arms
Giving head
to your bowels beneath


Climbing Vines

Climbing vines
Hug the trees I once
sat underneath
I see their limbs
reaching out
There’s little for them
to hold on to
in the loneliness
of the sun
They will soon fall;
their age undone
To unite
with the very loneliness
they were born
from


Horse’s Silhouette

With every step taken
The lights define your shape
so clearly
Green, hollow lights
shine throughout the fog
Your silhouette
into the black
Much like a woman
you stroke with elegance
I wonder if you pant
the same way
Maybe even leave
for the same reasons
Never were you so
magnetic


The Maw

It’s been a year
No, longer
A kiss that ended
in misery
then back
In euphoria
Fluctuation
until we die
What if she dies first?
Will she wait for me?
Or will I refuse to?
And when I visit her tombstone
will her epitaph
consume me?
Or will the soil
take me in?
Romance is a maw
much like death
I can’t wait for it
to devour
me


Murderspout

In the trenches of cognizance
I can feel
I want them dead
But they’ll always be alive
Somehow
Memory phantoms
and names on the will
Picture them in yours
In your trenches
Lifeless
Blood spouting from their orifices
like fountains
Dancing
Dancing and crawling
Until their flesh crawls
With the children of flies
Dancing


Ashen Willow

His tendril hair hangs down
Hundreds died
And he felt them
Now he
mourns
By the stone of ages
stands a tree of plagues
Of aegis
And I go there
I feel him asking
“Who mourns there?”
He has bathed in their ashes
He will
bathe
in mine


Festering Orange

Spirits trapped in a late
June breeze
A feline warrior
His shape deteriorated
and bones went deep into the earth
His breathing ceased
A festering orange
His elegance
is never lost
It never will


Solitary Animal

Not born for
love
Or anyone else
Accidents
in a shady past
with a bleak present
and a fluorescent future
Now I’m a solitary
animal
Walk not with me
The skies move against the grain
As you won’t see
I’m not myself around
people
No longer the animal
but a member of the two-piece pack
I want to wake up
alone
Because one is company enough
Two is jail rape
No longer
wake up
For everyone will die
alone


Her Younger Self

There she slept
with remorse
Under the veil
of the gathering darkness
The mist descents
in between the concrete trees
and willows beyond
Lost with the tears
on her cushions
The nightmares that slept
with the phantoms of her recollection
And there she turned her
back to the sound sex
And she went there again
Lost with sex
Lost
without sex


Director’s Cut

You’re a piece
of vile
intent
Depicting women
as cowardly
sex objects
I wish for my screenplay
to ondulate on its way to you
For it’d be the perfect
Ironic snuff
Who wouldn’t want to
see
you
get raped
by your own
tongue


Body Merchant

Love for money
Vultures for profit
Trading bodies
For drugs
They’re faceless
but remember their eyes well;
for they won’t look the same
when someone launches
his fingers into them
He smiled at me
with an expiration date
shining through his teeth
Misogynist
Corruptor
Die a horrible
death


Unsex

Pull the vision from my mind
Mute the coldness
in my ears
I know the screen wasn’t depicting
anything real
But I know they enjoyed
her beauty being destroyed
A challenge to her
Money to others
Orgasms for few
Repulsion for this lonely watcher


Devouring Men

They all look the same
They smell and taste
Bad
“Mommy, I don’t want to play”
There’s a silent urge
waiting for the mind
to break
And it will surge
It will surge
Conducted through a blade
or gun
It will
shatter their skulls
Like neuron bombs
devouring flowers
It will surge


Personal Weaponry

Holding her emotions
Tightly in a fist
They say eyes are the
deflections of a black hole
That’s why I can’t keep getting into her head
Espionage satellite
Personal MK Ultra
These words won’t hurt her
beyond these wards
But these thoughts torture me
I heard Guantanamo Bay
never closed down


And All She Touched Withered

That smile is so familiar
Almost like a black-red
Moon
With a gaze like a barrel
of a twelve-gauge
leaving ecstatic
entry wounds
that boil with sorrow
and fester with
relapse
Now I remember
The flowers of that time
and the rain
Downpour from Canadian
clouds
They’re not the same anymore
They withered, soured
That smile is so familiar
I should never have stripped her
Naked
With that gaze
like a barrel
Leaving
woeful
exit wounds


Childless Mother

My apologies
are yours
Not bonding
I’m all grown up now
No longer the child
you once smothered
inside those bony hands
Now you lost me
in time
and in the ever-expanding dark
A childless mother
But that’s okay
No one can hear me cry
six feet under


Hair Sorceress

With one arm
stuck in the
day
The other
in perpetual
night
Merit in her
words
That spoke of the
troubles she
endured
Apathy between
bliss and panic
Her hair grew from her bones
with every breath
She screamed
Every inch
was a pound of misery
Bewildering
Thorny braids
Enveloping the neck
She once kissed


Snorting Decay

Insights are overrated
So is reality
So is yours
Barely accustomed
to this
One
Mountains moved
and stood by the twisted charade
disrythmic digitalis
convulsing to the flailing
frequencies
Inviting substances
into their own
I would be at the door
of their bedrooms
Sniffing and snorting
From the aromatized
sensual
fluids
Their liquid
ecstasy


Every Walking Mile

There’s a crack in the pavement
And foundations
are about to collapse
The yellow fireflies
shine brightly
In distant meadows
Yellow
machines
Call it what you will
Walking in circles
Suddenly the world became
Beautiful


Miss Conduct

Daphne’s eyes were set
on mature men
She told me to stop crying
While I dreamt of her
lying
in fragments
She told me to stop staring
“Stop smiling”


Bleeding Trees

Knife carvings
in the bark
Dogs echoing
through the fog
and moonlit dusk
There was but one
The constant
As old as my time
immemorial
Smoke reigned supreme
The moon began to
fold up again
The bark began to shatter
and the barking shattered my ears


Ultraserene

Dressed in blue
lighting
Ultramarine
Ultraserene
Oversaturated
It pets my eyes
I used to know so much
Care so much


Nineties Graveyard

Thinking back of 99
There’s a charm to the town fair
August is the month
of its death
How I wished they would all die
Orange lights
don’t govern the streets
everywhere
Funny how nostalgia
can really kill a stomach
It’s green, many a time like grass
It won’t be long until it turns
yellow
I never had cotton candy before
Heads don’t explode in the arcades anymore


Animal Magnetism

Picture her
With fuchsia earrings
Standing naked with her clothed
Skin stripped from her bones
A myriad of mating millipedes
burrowing from deep inside her skull
When a relationship
so akin to a sister’s
turns into a reproductive ritual
similar to plants
our pudenda
cease
to be entwined
from miles away
You’ll hear me biting your tongue in my
Sleep
You’ll see me watching you die
In your dreams
I wish I could redeem you from your
Chemical hypersleep


Body Geography

Fingers like conquistadores
in sunken continents
She’s an open desert
A salt valley inhospitable to life
Her mountains have been climbed
I’ll be the first to sail her oceans


Smiling

For the first time in years
So sincere
So justified
Yet it seems too philosophised
Muscles twitch at the pulse of laughter,
exposing the teeth;
The last thing you’ll see
before swimming into the predator’s belly


Lurker In The Rain

“Hear the smell;
taste the view”
Humming a faux-ballad
His tongue adhering to the window
Suckling heavy rain from the glass
He got off at her screams
whilst her father dialled the number
Custodians in costume
found stains in his pants
“Take the bastard away”
Little did they know
he liked to rape her himself


August Colors

They’re almost grinning
with their fingers in my eyes
The rocking before the train wreck
At least I’ll be somewhere
Wherever the winds
carry me
All that’s written in petrified remains
is that there will be fossilized remnants
Once again
Exhume my recollection
just thoroughly enough
to find august’s colors
Muted out


The Orchard

Wishes
to share these demons unto others
Thieving, we can only do during autumn
For now, let’s sit here
Speaking romance of environment
and trivial sex
amidst insecticides
Even though the beetles will die without
Sit with me
Between pesticide-infested apples
Thieving, we can do when you get hungry
Please just be my conjoined twin


Severed Tide

Mental obstruction
My fingers are comatose
I’d speak my mind
So articulately
So eloquently
But you give me no incentive
You’re energy is like a broken ocean
Like a dead moon
Pulling no tides
Bring me to the sea
where we can speak again


Peat Field

If the road,
not destination,
is important
Why are we stuck here
and not moving on to
anything better
The tree’s age rings
are as stress lines on my nails
Walking in circles
If this is purgatory
I’d rather be in hell
At least I’d feel something there
Never stare into the water, they said
But what’s the difference between
the black of the deep,
the void above horizons
You’ve stared into both before
You found me staring
back at you


Neon Greys

When the crickets
start whispering
I’ll find myself here again
Lost between concrete pillars
Where the asphalt
radiates with neon greys
I’ll run home
To the netherscapes
And I’ll remain there
Until my blood stains the wheat grass


Gastronomy

How can we kill and
turn death into something aesthetic?
Plants and beasts alike
We consume life
and call it art
It’s beautiful
Disgusting


Masks

There’s a wormhole
Behind those eyes of yours
Hiding behind your tongue
If you’re wearing a mask,
it must be translucent
It feels like
you just reassembled your skin
If you ever had any to begin with


Phantom Eye

Pulsating behind the eyes
A crown of cluster headaches
Perception is so limited
when your stress is so leveled
I want to cut through my iris
Touch my mind’s eye


Autophagist

Have you ever tasted
your own aroma
First my nails
Then my wrists
Next up, my shoulders
I’ll disappear
Quench an insatiable
hunger for suicide


Texture Fetisj

Lick the fissures off the lips
And
suck the pus out of the wounds
Freckles like mold on hide drenched in milk
Picking teeth with hair resembling bristles
feels like electrodes wrapping around my nerves
But the motion sickness from rubbing the sheets
I’ll tell you
It’s so sweet


Crestfallen Angel

she sat there in the corner of the darkened bedroom her head hanging down in a basket of limbs her hair was as dead as the june bugs that lay underneath her she opened her wings before me I knew I was going to die she lifted her head up I saw the contours of her numbed lips and her whitish purple hollow eyes haunted me for the remainder of my days she gave birth to my fears I was the father of her sorrows