gliitchlord

disjointed states of fuck you, pay me, praise jesus it's a baby—a slave to the old world order. fox news reporters crave heated debates just so they can play the trump card. see how they fellate old fellows! glory glory to the relished suffering of others—my god saved me, ergo you earned the fire. preach again how to sacrifice isaac; eyes back in your head rolling in the deep- seated hatred of your fellow man, woman, and child; seventy percent of the world reviled, spit on them even as hallelujahs echo from the pulpit. america the ulceric and pitiful; god the enabler of death, discrimination, and communion with ghosts. throw your warehouse full of stones at the innocent. city on a hill dismembering the living while orgasming in a grave: holy holy is the blatant disdain, hold that bible so close it's can't be opened or worse, explained. you know not what you do, or if you do, you're fucking insane.

coax my hand to hilt, stray rhythms build a wilderness of edges— primed. an amazon sine cursed to lilt; beyond the sunrise i'm embattled. brittle scabbard, gift of shrapnel. stain me, ever so dismantled. cut the canopy; the scattered flocks portend the lost miscanthus. cannot trust the plants that wind through wounds and grasp the failing standard: i'm disastrous.

fork tines in a forearm— force my smile and time the waves of pain. i'm more a sign than a gesture; unsure of my own name. you order in again, coughing and hitting the vape. vague comments on current events, so sweetly sang the hung jury. make a mouthing out of a mobile home. languor of post-pandemia set in like freezer burn—like stale kisses. you fidget and squirm and i press the prongs deeper. find out if you cry when i bleed, one way or another. copy mannerisms and sloppy seconds; dismissive of hovering clouds, toxic. talk with the ceiling, you keep your laptop shut-down. bath bomb drowns in its own promise, down the drain, howling for hours until you're satisfied; how sharpened that shift-eye is! artery spits out a shame-red excuse—i'm tired, i'm shit, i can't skip work again. if the moon fits, swallow it. i'll see you again.

what a mire is a lyre string snapped in the teeth of a lover; plucked feelings taut, discordant lips whispering, god left to the passage of time. no mystery, i'm strung up by short breaths, lost in rapt leather, tighter still. what a fire is silence when only clamor fulfills.

ichor in your kisses, covet sucking teeth relentless. limbs in disconnected plummet tie fresh ligaments. and if this is your paradise, your pile of corpses, somehow your dimension, keep it quiet. lips so murdered out for vengeance. mark the tarnished, torn, and tempt them into tar—you harmonize with screams, the slaughter sings supreme but no one listens. when you smile it's horrendous.

blood under your nails, i taste. thunder in the throat, i'm keeping time in stasis. statements of fact, you know and i lack. look out to apocalypse, dream with your eyes closed, coming on the wind. three fingers again, at least. lest we forgive, reach deeper than ever; i grin when the severance rasps across skin. you prince him so nimbly— ganymede gasps, flustered.

customary glances at the dying, you glow like a warbanner—in blood and bright horror. hide never, be brandished at the vanguard. you dawn on the weak, sun tearing through the de— composing. grace, such that heaven shudders and the blade gleams. sharp, wistful lunges over corpses; you float the tide of mangled.

crush me into glass, i'll glitter in your hands, embedded. lick the blood and cut your tongue to ribboned lies, pretty wounds with looming ties to ends. stab each other like friends, draw blades in errant scars, crash cars like lovers. we can't stand each other.

cuss me into knots, i'm flustered. buy you god- damned perennials, the petals lodge in my throat, then root. rust and ruin on the tongue of drunk leaves; let me feel your falter, you breeze. past and present company excluded, vine golden around limbs. sing, oracle of sense and disillusion. i can only hear the fucking sea.

mouth dammed with stars, you lover of breath, falling. neither renewal nor release— ash-fixed elation. impatient as twilight biting dawn's nape; blush tastes bitter with each constellated orgasm. unstable, you fucking pyroclasm. burn ever in the void, you dagger. lack all, and suffer ruin.