gliitchlord

fleet heels drawling on and on and fluttering candid anchors at odds with waypoints demanded just one more just one don't stop consume the pavement or be left to rot

I turned the insides and upped the anti- bodies. Burned the skin and usurped the antegodly. Stepped in haughty and burst the veins. Steeped in naughtiness and lusting feints. I leave a trail of dissolving courses, weaving a dark tail involving corpses. A blood bright tapestry of violent twine. A floodlight mastery of guided spines. I vomit meaning and swallow life. And I am ever following behind.

now we are glittered across the universe, set to drift around stars (and ages from now, into hearts) from the earth to the jewel of the skies then to dust and decay and a shaking in shattering silence most of us fall into glamorous orbits, twenty trillion turns about a planet golden; brilliance morbid with a history never told and some of us marry the constellations; burned in the starshine as lovers in fields vow their love will outlast what consumes us and a few of us return without notice or ceremony; in fact only one set of eyes takes heed, focusing not on the loss but the rarity thus an old greed begets a

all the earth's prescription meets all of her suspicions. she calls the dirt to listen as fallen leaves are twisted. the rule of gravity does fool her, gradually. unspooled, her calves and knees accrue all casualties. her hands breach sediment to scan for meaning left. in sand, the beach is spent demanding sea's relent. she never asked for much; a breath, a glance, a touch. her severed stance somewhat etheric and nonesuch.

I don't give anything for rules; I don't give so much as a damn. I'm standing up to this world to let it know just who I am. I've got a shatter inside, and endless ways to get it out. So many ways to destroy, more ways than any man can count. He was so skilled with creation, I suppose that's why I'm here. Another plan he designed, another thought he engineered. The city called out his name and he would not ignore its wants. He reached for Parallels East, leaving a mother to her sons. I don't give anything for life; my family's strife I can't forgive. He left her sobbing on the porch, he left us screaming in the crib. I bro

i am : a fraction a mess of half-thoughts and suggestions expressed in short stutters and fragmented questions addressed when the timing is wrong and the best men have all given in to the sway of progression, but i am a section / but i am the backslash unending preventing completeness of mind or discreetness of rending no, all the division is tending to schism out loud, i am a prismatic cloud with its sun being forced to remain under ground but you! well, let me say you complete me (and then sweep the cliché away by continuing sweetly) you heap me in order and greet me with more than I knew could ever be ar

I had your fears stained on my everclenchedfists, watching simple clouds loom and ask me where you were. this is the cliche part of the dream when one would naturally open up and cry all manner of blood, curdled beyond recognition only to find that voice meant nothing and as syntax underarching; colors all away: breathe, water. In time predicates predictated return rule to subjects. Thus emergence cleanses and uncertain palms gain confidence.

We are a universe     A bright expanse of space     created by our warm embrace The sun and stars disperse     that question mark upon your face As we together curse     the orbits of our separate ways                                           in this life And I'll paint the music And you can sing the skies And we'll provide this universe with ligh

choke of all void focused, orbit slowing as endorphins fade. that i might behold some sun again, a mourning star made vagrant. trait of empty space, a darkspeed sweetness dancing nettles on the tongue. happiness has never been a gun; it floats, impatient, in quiet lungs.

don't stye at me, violent love. i've been drying at the corners of my lips, cracked distance and static shearing us to peaces. i'm not quiet but i never was, can't tie the tongues of my fingertips. flights in drummed eagerness. why won't the fevers subside? why is the madness the constant? why am i still alive? what gives me the right?

life is heating up like my bits in a bask kid i'm an error in the sum anomaly in the math sick as a territory scrap with children kicking a casket i am bullet casings every time i pillow and ask if there's a method to the war or a swig in the flask lit like a fly on the pyre of a multitude gassed i billow and gasp for two or three zeros and ones then circle the sun and reset my cache i was a viirtuous flaqq thht cccght fi/*re ^nddd ashhh// burn cut back; in turn the torrent amassed crashed and burred blurring purred words and versions of trash with masterful lapses in vertical stance serving last chances with burgeoning gnash to surfacing cr

Father found his footing in the earth. Mother worked to live as far away as able, with her bosom only stable in a gentleman's embrace. Father sifted soil, taking what the dust collected mourned; he adorned them with the closure borne by shovel's scraping sighs. Mother liked to feel her thighs against the desperate fingers' rape. And what was I? I was their rusted rings mistake: a breaking, bound to ache for more than marble seas with skeletal surprises creeping past the seeds. I am now the chain in links; the swaying clink and clank connecting napes to anchors running deep. I invite the dust to sleep;

sometimes I sicken myself. with every letter I submit I am certain I forget the impetus behind all of this. shut me up, and with a kiss.

this is of a man, and this is of the man: he begins as often witnessed and will end in much the same, but this is focused on the path from green to grime to glass to glade. he will anger ticking towers, he will be the fleeing main; he will glower under neon and describe the taste of flame. this will all be of the man, and this will be all of the man.

These cells have become my body. I, alive once, did walk this earth with purpose, and with heart and mind in touch. But that evening outlined her form with spatters and sent servants scattered to my known location. And with grand oration did the jury find me; with red hands and redder face they did confine me. I swear this picture of guilt hangs in a detailed frame. I live locked in the burden of blame.

"stay. notice the still on the field, how the grass without master aligns." "wait, wait for the morning to settle drink deep of the peace it provides." the sun breaches the sky; lotuses and irises quicken in brightness. his son seated beside notices his eyelid's flicker in silence. "there's an energy here, alluring as a chorus of voices." "let us ever be here, within a stirring that implores all our choices." together they walk, meandering off wherever the morning will lead. a childhood vow: nature espoused. and the earth keeps on turning at speed.

i. red as the setting sun and all men's shade when she walks by brighter than the dull stains of the masses pined and aglow like the fire's died ii. hips in motion switch blades from tense to open she's slicing a throat when she lingers like rope and the hopeless bleed out in rows iii. they break like necks of prey while she picks the heels from the fray

I see veins attuned to dark degree, whole regions giv'n lesions numbered as the sea. A shard glint in hopeless orbits and freezing guards keeping secret torment. Deceit in warm prints and pauper offerings will drink dissent at the cost of offspring. So let them riot for their frigid own. Even entombed I'll not relent my throne.

I house the scum and the sin and the hatred; the things that you often forget but can never be sated. I rise without care for surrounding embankments and buildings: I rise with impatience. My heights are protected by demons and devils, the kind that delight in their deeds and they revel in pain and in torture and screaming and several new evils that bleed without sleeping in death, full of seething misleadings and teeth in their breath. So just flee, for my meaning is death.