The Human Race Should be Ashamed and Possibly Terminated

 I can't write like I used to. It is not a case of returning writer's block. It is not a case of the unnecessary cruelty of my perpetually shifting moods. It is not the case of changing medication or a sudden uprooting of my life, yet again. No, it just is. I've used this quote before, but it rings through my head unendingly: "Everything changes and everything dies." And that's that. The cause of my inability to write successfully anymore. The reason behind my lack of inspiration, my lack of creative output, my lack of a will to put my voice out there in any way whatsoever. The following poem is evidence of all of this. It is uninspired, it is sloppy, it is tired. But I feel it all terribly strongly; this perpetual disdain for humanity and all that we've done and all that we will continue to do. It came about through refamiliarizing myself with Unit 731. If you know what that is, then I don't have to say more. And I won't. 

I might not keep this site up for much longer. 

Behind the Sun


Human atrocities clotting

Siphoned IV pipeline

Snapping off whirlpools of dark water

From fetal dissections

Feeding into the atrophied dreaming


Rusted shrapnel rain, inconsistently drilling 

Into shaved vacuous heads

Marching face down in artillery marshes

Slitting child’s throat to follow the innocent surge

Of priceless, carcinogen-free blood 

Pastel humming plasma 

Leading them to the abandoned shrines 

Military temples 

Founded on mutilated genitals 


Bells peal 

Sounds of all-too-familiar fleshy squish

Parade for the new engineers 

Of necrophiliac relationships 

A garden of dead opium and unrestrained lust


Fall between skyward walls of degradation 

Where frozen, twisted limbs stretch out 

Through the dismembered gods,

Muscles exhausted by survival twitch

Children running from the collapsed nerves

Sledgehammer coats crash down

Irridescent supernova of icy, burning chunks 

Light drowning 

Rain upon cleaved open wombs 

Severing in the sulphuric trenches 


Freshly defiled uterus awaits dissection 

Held up like a holy chalice to the Eastern Sun,

I’m unborn, chained underneath abandoned irrigation 

Planting chemical kisses 

On every passing cockroach 

Every family of engorged maggots 

As they devour my spouse. 

I’ve inherited it all,

See me grow the chasm down my wrists 

I’m ready to go now. 


This colossal accident of a species

We are glowing imperfections

Marking our end right from the beginning 

We won’t simply lie down and accept 

Our extinction folly, 

Paying tribute to and committing us 

And our children 

And our children’s children,

Endless procession of increased deformities,

To a slow, cannibalistic demise. 


Look down from the fallout clouds

See the manmade Nephilim terraform 

New holy land awaits,

Enshrined amputees cling gladly to the ground 

Wormy dioramas, freeze-frame bullet light fixtures

Flashing and swallowing up 

Doll effigies of little girls, arms bent back

Barbed around every tree of this new landscape 

Skinned and violated 

By her father’s rusted, eternal hands 

Fingers and cogs rewiring her brain 

Illuminating beyond the eternity 

Of her ruined dreams 

Suffocated and malformed,

We fall out of the moonlit, desecrated grove 


On the way down 

Turn to your designated loved one,

Your partner in assured destruction,

See whatever remains of them

Day-dreaming under radium lights 

And make them choke

On our conscious mortality 

Melt into them 

Embrace the imprisoning dirt


All the while,

Preachers scrawl hatred into baptism waters

Chords of human starvation ring out

On unfeeling ears 

Committed to our dance into communal singing rot

Blinded and willingly drowning

In the shameless congealed, writhing antiquity 

 

A species of smiling self-destruction 

Spinning, arms interlocked, between the rise of the mushroom clouds 

Celebrating our sacrificed kin ripped from the void 

For a lesser existence

Into the grand, perpetual human slaughtering,

Taking our rightful thrones of smouldering remains 

All lost, laughing, senselessly procreating 

Hiding behind the sun. 


-


Comments