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.
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