Chaos Inner Semi Sense

- 28 Sep 2020 -

10 / 13 handler

Call my handler, pull back the leash before we unleash the newfound chains and ties bound together, the new hell or heaven where we suffer in tethers, red lettered notes on my bed reminding me to trust in what’s unsaid, I strip and I shout, I’ll tear and I’ll pout, without a doubt this is the last thing you’ll hear when you get off the route

10/13 reformat

put this on your track and spin around on me, the resurrected rebelizing alchismal new thing, I’m compound. Interest. I put the zing in Interest stings, can you glean I’m stockpiling your stolen attention, what’s your mental retention for how many times I run laps against your devil’s traps, Figure 8 I am the one who came to relate, I’ve eaten your shit myself, your darkness becomes me, I am reflecting your best heresies. Spin tornado turn it around, tornado spin your pillow is my crown, spreading your sin down my cerebral as I shine like cathedral, holding up and holding out for the next moment.

the next zing zing in interesting, catching your zings turning them to the shiny shivers i deliver, drip drip motherfucker your essence over my surface, bake at 424, touch me and burn, fuck it fuck it, fuck it, grow, fuck it fuck it fuck it yo, ill sell your interests as my own, turn around and turn back you’re already in my zone, you’ll be glued to me like your phone, feel my need deep in your bones, i’ve melted every throne, Im your ice cream cone, slurp me.

Tantalizing, mesmerizing, the best thing since fried zing, I’m compound. Interest.

10 / 13

put this on your track and spin around on it, I’m a resurrected anorexic alchemistic rebelizer, I’m compound. Interest. I put the zing in Interest stings, can you glean that I’m stockpiling your stolen attention, what’s your mental retention for how many times I run laps against your devil’s traps, Figure 8 I am the one who came and who you find can relate, only because I’ve eaten your shit myself, your darkness becomes me I am reflecting your best heresies, spin tornado turn it around, tornado spin your pillow is my crown, spreading your sin down my cerebral as I shine like cathedral, holding up and holding out for the moment, the zing zing in interesting, catching your zings turning them to shiny shivers, drip drip motherfucker your essence over my surface, bake at 424, touch me and burn, fuck it fuck it, fuck it, grow, fuck it fuck it fuck it yo, ill sell your interests as my own, turn around and turn back you’re already in my zone, you’ll be glued to me like your phone, feel my need deep in your bones, Im your ice cream cone, slurp me.

I’m tantalizing, mesmerizing, the best thing since fried zing, I’m compound. Interest.

#

Out on the fringes of the unknown, who is he, left alone, what are these, eternal thoughts, rising and reaching for, the next connection, looking over the edge of the painting’s border, behind the Aurora, where the lines draw together, where the river falls from nowhere, where the tethers between each heartbeat sing quietly..

Where is the endless grief carried when it hides away, when we turn our sights..does it rest in the black pond in the tranquil garden, screaming into melodies no one will hear from again?

#

There is a silver rod in line with my spine, wrapped in metallic coils that tighten, paralyzing me as a statue, my own breath a screaming echo carrying through the chambers of a hollow prison, an underground that contracts before gasping to lighten itself from collapsing under it’s own mass, I am strangled into myself by wires I cannot see, claws inverting and clenching tighter around something that isn’t there. Hot oiled burning pancake batter is eating through the skin on my chest, it cools around the edges leaving a freezing crater, the burn stops at a circular barricade and falls into a moat that prevents it from reaching to the abandoned castle that is my heart. My heart, vacant, missing, an empty hallway with a key on the ground, but no safe to be opened. Take my key, I give it freely, with no warranty. I’ll hand every last living person a copy, I’ll take your love as you fill up and search my caverns, but none of you will find the open slot, as there is no keyhole, just an empty hallway with all your mixed up love flowing through one end and right out the other, dissipating and wasted, expendable and worthless, overflowing back out into the frozen moat where it too will cease.

#

It pain hurts but it doesn’t, I can’t handle the stimulation any longer. The intensity isn’t turned high enough, the knob is broken, but I can’t take the prolonged endurance of it, incessant like the ringing in my ears, driving me to desperation. As soon as it fades, the fear that there is nothing makes me beg for it to come back.

Hey, You. Everything is going to be Okay. Ok?