I march through the woods, darkened by my hands.

Chained to others who are similarly damned.

The carrion call of flesh exhales out through morning mist.

The gallows drag us by its chained tongue tightened around our wrists. 

Mud spattered high on the imposing wooden frame. 

A reminder of the life I chose to take, what I became. 

I am to face the death deemed fit for my crimes. 

A bell toll of my end, crescendoing chimes. 

I stand shoulder to shoulder with men much safer than I. 

As they have not seen what I have seen with these cold dead eyes. 

The rope tightened around my neck feels oddly comforting in light of the blood on my hands. 

I lose this life happily knowing the things that breed beneath these lands. 

Anticipation is overflowing by the time I drop. 

But there is no neck snap, to lifeless flop. 

I hang in the air, by a rope that should have ended me. 

The crowd is in awe, begging for answers how this could be. 

They yell and proclaim, “The devil inhabits him, I have no doubt!’

Despite my current state I respond, 

“It’s not the devil you should be worried about.” 

Sacrifice is needed to slip beyond. 

“I killed not for the pleasure, but to get them to respond.” 

One scared woman asks, “Who?”

A rope digs in, despite it I struggle through. 

“Old things that live in older places.”

“They infest time and unknowable spaces.”

“To know them is to truly see the divine.” 

“Perfection is in their Aberrant thoughts and design.” 

With a final breath my soul leaves. 

But I stay aware of what the old ones use me to conceive. 

I am but a vessel for a beautiful thing. 

It rips its way from my abdomen, letting my viscera swing. 

Even through it all I remain to see beyond its birth. 

Using my meat as material, stitched flesh of worth. 

A beautiful cephalopodic something new. 

Rearranging ignorance like our flesh, into something true. 

Something so much more than me, more than you.

The Pit

Piles of bones, shone the bright light you preach to me.

Eyes fit for a king, sing my insanity to little regretful me.

A mass grave of all the decay i coughed up for you.

Miasma of drought.

Poison clouds pull me down.

Plague bearer, denounced.

Brought to me on the backs of that gold laced chariot.

Dragged by the souls of the forgotten now forced to ferry it.

With it a wake of un-life,  a gaseous knife to end us by the thousands.

Plague bearer, denounce us.

Queen or shriveled wretch, we all serve the same lord in death.

Death cloud or madness we consumed, we will all loose our precious breath.

Bow down to the lord of flies.

Sheer white lace, just enough to hide the lies.

One by one sever our mortal ties.

Flesh from bone, flayed next to those we chose to chastise.

The pit is the pit, with or without you in it.

A king of man, just one or the many dammed.

A Mass grave to sire fourth walking un-life.

Walk across the trenches, the very chains of death we fight.

The pit spits up those who rage against light.

We are legion. We are swarm.

We move as one flooding form. 


Tell me—
Could your mind handle it?
When the earth cracks and trembles in fear,
When a leviathan hand and an eldritch being appear.

Tell me—
Could your mind handle it?
When your mouth spreads open and your teeth fall out.
The god within your flesh brings you to your knees praying, even more devout.

Tell me—
Could your body handle it?
When your flesh starts to tear and your bones begin to rearrange,
Slowly becoming deified with every abhorrent change.

Answer us—
Is our mind better now?
Fields of ruin replaced with fields of shimmering orchids.
Ignorant to lives slowly changing into something less morbid.
Become beautiful within ourself.
One billion minds and bodies divide like your cells.
Becoming something so painfully perfect after we expel—


Tell us.

Oh ossuary mine

Lay down next to me, supine, and hold your hands together like you’re praying.
Disgust those around you. Focus on the part of your mind that hates you, on what it’s saying.

Blade close to flesh and flesh close to me.
Open me up, lift open the skin, break the ribs.

Within the abyss of life lives rotting death.
Lean your head back and chant through laggard bre-e-eath,

“Oh, tomb you are. I’ll wear every scorn as individual scars.
Hold me within those cages, oh ossuary mine.
I’ll die for you in time, and curse every inch of my undying design.”

Within my chest I’ll hold you. Close to my heart.
As you rot away within me I’ll pull you into all my favorite parts.
Organized by importance and severity of regret,
The Shattered memories as bones and tears turned crystal black jet.

In their reflection we will sing,

“Oh, tomb I left behind. To walk the world I left burned in kind.
The dead will climb out of my chest and choke me slowly to death.
Oh ossuary mine, I’m fed up with this design.
I wish to be with you, constant in my chest.

A memory of bones,
My ossuary blessed.


I see through the seams of my reality.
Living split between a further separating duality.
See the Watcher pulling the strings.
You can see the tear appear and the tears it brings.

The glass cage I put myself in.
A scream a day, not one of you hear me curse this skin.
The broken shards from the previous cut into my feet.
Forever and a day away from happy, from feeling complete.

Within my veins breeds life from other worlds.
There isn’t much left of me, maybe less then one-third?
The courage to keep it close to my heart.
I still keep it close, it’s the best part.
A voice tells me to bear with the pain.
After all this time, I fight the voice in my brain.

A new arm, five split-pupil eyes form across my skull.
An echoed scream, a cracking storm waiting for a lull.
I can see the webs you spin across the cosmos.
Long lines of thread to place me among the one you love most.

I love my mutations, my millions of variations.
Witness the worst. This won’t be the first.
Between immortal and ephemeral,
Between life and death,
I savor every single final breath.

Fighting to stay in this torturous state.
Breeding new pain, finding new ways to hate.
They take me far away from my decaying foundations.
I love my mutations.


How can I get it through your head?
This constant turmoil.
I know what I said.

Give me my six feet of soil.
Tell me what I can do to start the quiet.
Something beautiful and violent.
Tell me this was meant for me.

I don’t want to be free.
Give me my six feet of soil.
Drop me in and despoil.
Leave my bones.
They remind me of all my false thrones.

Give me what I want.
I’m tired of of the constant personality shunt.
Give me the crushing black.
Somehow end this all and give me myself back.

Build our kingdom from my blood and bones.
Write our scripture with pretty, violent undertones.
Leave me at the top so I can feel like I contributed to this kingdom made of me.
I only had to die to give you all something to see.


Two fingers grip it close.
Pulling at my legs like undertows,
Knots tied by you and you alone,
Weighted down to the depths to decompose.

Against a scalp a bare edge dragged across golden hair.
A waning, auburn moon,
Illuminating my nightmare.

Blue hues of two lives split on the same edge.
Find my body,
Continue to dredge.

I want to believe in the light that flickers at the surface.
Forget about my dark home,
Rotting and armless.
The crustacean, carrion feeder,
Consuming me, such a little abaser.

Pick me apart.
Reveal my black heart.
Use it in your ritual to impart,
My damning. My sin. My false start.

Pieces of me at the bottom of your lake.
Rotting for you, falling apart for your sake.
Memories that linger, persist like a stomachache.

Ferry my bones in your current.
Rewrite me as abhorrent,
Disgust my thought that lingers with the antidepressant.

Love me in your dark.
Ignore me when my flesh pulls apart—
Sleep through the pain.
Use my rot to grow your Wolfsbane.

Let me be part of your scenery.
A constant part of your Periphery,
A lingering injury,
The Wolfsbane in your garden scene.
Paint it out before you forget about me.

Blind By Choice

The lights are weary, like me—dreary. They flicker and fade. A shade of blue washes over the ivory white floor. A door at the end of the hall calls to me from beyond it all.

I want to stall when I hear the voices pick up, telling me to get up out of the dark. Parts of me wander free from the rest. Testing the boundaries of here and now, past and present—tense, The only feeling I can feel.

The ground undulates, dedicates its movements to knock me off my feet. That’s all before the walls sprout teeth.

I can’t breathe with this living debaser. See the walls peel off like burnt paper.

The end of the hall stretches and tapers down towards hellish flame. A demon for each lie in my mouth, doused in gasoline. Spit like fire and shame.

Under a new world’s gravity my form weakens. Buckles and strains beneath them.

The moons shatter into stars across the canvas of nothing, Touching the edge of my periphery. I can’t help to smile, bear my teeth and claws euphorically.

Nine millions stars separate me from you. Two pieces torn apart to bring about a new heart to start.

Birth me right into oblivion.

Tell me you believe in the heart beneath layers of dark. Your atoms belong to me. See how they make up the universe I create and pull apart.

Parasitic, pseudoisochromatic, Abhorrently disproportioned—

A living nebulous mind.  Ever hungry by design.

Open the way.

Bring me a hundred to kneel. Call forth the breathing and unbreathing, loyalty to break the seal.

Contagious beautiful fanaticism.  Dead to alive ad-nauseum.

Pulse with flies and beings from another reality to bring about the father of insanity. Another me breathing in human life synchronously. My messenger he will be. Sowing my mind-altering reality.

Tour of my brain

Disclaimer: there is some stronger subject matter within this poem. mention of self harm mainly. This piece is different then most of the ones you will find here. I wanted to post a smaller, more blatantly personal one to see how people liked it. thank you again for even reading my work. plenty more to come!

Let’s take a tour of my head,

What do you say?

It’s mostly depression, aggression, a smidgen of frustration with what I have to think to get by.

Decide if I want to die.

It’s Tuesday, maybe a noose today?

That would be a lovely thought. The knot that releases an expression of hope across my face. 

Leaves the rope digging at my throat. But no.

No suicidal thoughts today. That’s a win, they are usually proverbial. 

So let’s run through the rest.

There are festering thoughts of the past. I still hold myself accountable alas.

But what do I do with them? If not obsess and obsess.

Well I turn it inward and assume I’m at fault.

The guilt lies with me. Self assault on my brain, ground down on the asphalt.

There is some happy–albeit short-lived and snappy. But I try my best to live where the hate isn’t.

Does it work? Of course not. But it helps me feel human. 

Focusing on the good rather than the happy famine. 

I can’t quite figure out the difference between my own hell and heaven.

That concludes the tour of my brain. 

I left out the monsters that strain my head everyday. 

I put them down on paper to scare others and keep them at bay. 

But hey, it’s a creative outlet. I’ll be okay.


Chemicals are essential to function,

Be it control or destruction. 

I crave entropy—

The bright points of my dull catastrophe. 

A red necktie to stain my shirt and skin.

Love, doom. The only things I find hate in.

Love burrows into you like a starving invertebrate,

Peels back the shell to proliferate. 

Made from stars and just as far,

The light I snuff is the light you are.

I apologize for the creature inside your heart.

There is nothing else left of me, that’s the only part.

Keep it safe if you please.

It will die off soon, like a disease,

Just a little abnormality.

I apologize for the creature I left inside your heart.

I’m trying to recreate it with art.

Remember what I left of me in others,

Little things I left behind to discover.

When I leave and close my eyes,

I want something for those of you left behind—

A little creature in your heart to remember me by.