like a shark bite that finds no organs or soul to find purchase in.

pulling out dust, just layers of failure.

welcome! oh grand dream!

what djinn has granted all these wishes?

twisted this cautionary tale into an orgy of subtle erasure.

the last flicker in the box does not appear as “hope” but a weakening throb from an ever diluting vein.

———————————

pretentious prose pretending to be poetry.

—————————————-

not to be out done, here are crap lyrics from one of my favorite songs from one of my secret favorite albums growing up. can you feel my shame burning from me like all the fire in hell? can you?

well.

fuck you.

i still get all misty just thinking about it.

“When the kid goes home
He always goes alone
He hides in the machine
And always stays fourteen
Well there’s really nothing wrong with the plan
He goes to sleep at night and holds his own hand
It’s inconceivable there could be an end”

“Sometimes my soul just moves so slow
Like a dream of diesel heart that just won’t go
There’s a light that used to shine
I breathed it all the time”

——————————————

i guess that was two songs. i guess… it doesn’t matter.