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. 

Muse upon sight

Laying on my back supine among the grass and rocks, I feel life give way to death every second. 

I look at the stars so impossibly far a mere shift in my weight may kill something that I did not acknowledge as there.

I lose myself within the sight of the turning black above my head, swimming in thoughts of what lies beyond any knowledge I could dig up. 

Would I or anyone understand the things that could be lurking beyond our minds capacity to replicate?

The disjointed pieces of flesh and bone, chitin and crystal, unknowns grafted to unknowns.

Eyes don’t come in rows, they come in waves, across inky nebulae and gas giants far from our sight.

We were made within this goldilocks zone of space. 

Not only was it just so perfect as to nurture life, but far enough away from the vast reaching horrors of the abyss that would sooner extinguish us with a simple shift of its weight.

Insignificance personified in every life brought crying into the world. 

Every belief that puts us at the center of some great plan.

We are merely a little thing upon a rock. Just so lucky that we didn’t get found yet.

I know the eyes I speak of. 

I see them in the sky when the stars flicker.

I can see the digits at the end of long chromatic tendrils that move through air as oil moves through water.

Splitting dimensions in two to feed on the sight of our fear; To feed on the bits of our flesh is hardly sustenance for the lesser of these beings. 

One million beings of unfathomable blight bring a soaring miasma across the cosmos, star to star; an exhalation of breath from a monumental titan of thought-twisting might.

As I lay here wondering about the coming jaws that have swallowed stars, crushed moons within their teeth. 

Do you worship such a thing, or fear it with every bit of your being? 

Do you end the life you hold sacred to forget the image of its sensory organs wrapping around earth, constricting and pulling apart cities without thought as it places it upon its tongue?

Not mere musings, I witness it in my dreams. 

Speaking to me in low grumbling tones of twelve planets grinding together within its throat.

I do not understand, nor would I define these things as words. More a horn of arrival, a thumping step of an idiot man walking across an ant hill. The precursor to something we can’t explain, for explaining it would kill us just the same.

I’ve seen white burning light from the cosmos—infinitely more consequential than anything tangible here—snuffed out in the abyss beyond thought.

We hurl towards the unthinkable maw of some great leviathan that drifts towards us in the dark, cold reaches of empty space.

I am excited to finally greet it.


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.


My family wasn’t one to indulge in my life choices.
Within opulent halls that perfectly echoed crow calls,
I would steal out into the night.
Collecting teeth, body parts, ashes for one of the many voices.

I would sequester in my room during the day.
Fearing that the absence of my treasures would alter and sway without me to keep them safe from the cold dark violence.
I would consume out of compulsion, oddly not feeling anything linger on my conscience.

The halls of the manor echoed with fear as more and more of my family noticed my emotional and physical changes.
My increased reclusion became all the more normal as my outward appearance began one of its many rearranges.

My jaw would creak and crack as it seemed to separate from the muscles gifted by God.
My teeth felt sharper each day, grinding my lower lip bare.
My skin would stretch and tear, wrack my hands against the stone of these halls, not in pain but despair.

Despite my self-disgust, I continued to indulge in my fixation on the ingestion of human flesh.
It was getting to the point where the carrion I gathered would not placate or satiate it,
It would only drive me further towards the walking fresh.

Become one with the monstrosity I had sired within my skin.
Hunt the crimson life that walks ignorantly through the foggy streets,
Consume the flesh and all things therein.

This realization haunted me for a mere minute. Before I took to the town, bones shone and became apparent.

Breath after breath, the air marked my excitement.
The light mustn’t show my approach,
My disproportioned gate, misplaced joints.
I rushed through the streets like an otherworldly cockroach.

Fingernails ripe with dirt and decay,
I fell upon the scent that stuck with me, drew me closer, did not dissuade.
It was brilliant and bright. Citrus and clear.
The woman stood in the open air without knowledge of me there,
Ignorant to the fear.

A protracted arm reached through mist-filled air.
Fingers wrapping around the delicate waist, so unaware.
With a grip that dares to break her in two,
I pulled this feast into my serrated hug before even a slight scream would cut through.
I consumed my darling prey in the night,
Losing myself completely, no longer a wight.

I would consume the town and all therein.
Fuse the bodies and drape them over the house of mankind’s sin.
A chapel of abhorrence,
A dead city’s moan.
I became one with the beast within my bones.


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.

Roots I

In a town dull and horrid,
In a house rotting and bloated,
Lived a man of no great worth.
Picture perfectly deep-rooted.
He lived his life within these same few walls,
Screaming in anger for them all to fall.
He would attempt to leave many times before the light touched his skin at all.
But it’s sad to say he was rooted to the dirt.
Roots made of flesh and bark ripping from this poor introvert.
They tore through the floorboards and sank into the earth,
Pulling him down into a type of reverse birth.
They pulled his organs down, his blood came too.
When the roots looked for his spine they found there to be nothing of value.
And so he went from man to mush.
Pulled in by roots, down to what I am sure hell constitutes.
With only an eye left to see, he breathed no more as he had no lungs free.
The roots had consumed him in this prison—His home.
And put all the pieces down below it all alone.

Calling me Home II

Collective rage,
Grafted to my living cage.
Millions of minds screaming for release,
Trapped somewhere between alive and deceased.

Moving through a mindscape of the unreal agony of a collective people,
Morphed into one to become a disgusting song, A cacophony of screams throughout this flesh steeple.
We are one with god—His thousand eyes and eldritch form.
We are the wave of nothing washing over our home,
We are the swarm.

A thousand years pass and I feel a pull.
I am we. We are whole.
A thousand years pass and I can feel my hands again,
Cytokenesis to begin.

I don’t hear all the screams,
My mind forms anew.
Dropped from a cosmic, gargantuan, living planets sinew.
A new body to call mine. A new otherworldly design.

The sky is undulating, bleeding oceans,
The ground racked with a low groan and rapid convulsions.

Tendrils made of man and woman burrow deep within this breathing new eden.
Trees of flesh and metal substance, shrouded by a living atmosphere of alien repugnance.

Sat before this infested new world, fist in alien dirt clenched and curled.

I feel the god we belong to let out a deep horrid sigh as it rearranges my chromosome.
As my skin begins to split and move, teeth and bone shift and improve.
I let out a cry not of my own, a plea to please return home.

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.