Man In The Radiator

 I can't say much about this. This isn't directed at anyone in particular. To be left alone and succumb to total isolation is truthfully not something I'd want. But I am frequently haunted by the overwhelmingly loud voice in the stomach of my very being shouting at me that I deserve to be left alone and uncared for by anyone in this sordid, ugly world. And when I am finally free of any attachment to humanity, what little of it I have in the first place, I can finally enact my plans of doing away with this life once and for all. With no one to know of it, with no guilt or shame to be felt, with no hesitation or regrets, just a happy embrace into the void. Thanks for reading.  Leave Me Alone Resist the questionable urge, Don’t push over the empty carcass  And see me writhing underneath As a fat, oily black ant  Taken out of place, a loathsome invasion  Against my own species  Engorging myself on cancerous lumps  Fallen from all the widening hollows ...

The following ugly regurgitation of words and meaningless nonsense emotions was born from a few remaining scraps found in my previous notebook. Some of it was written as a response to a concert I went to fairly recently. Some of it was written as a response to the continued confusion I feel at the mere facts of my existence. And then what came out of me when I tried to expand on these meager, anemic scraps of vomit seemed to be responses to my latest bout of insomnia experienced over the past week. Needless to say, none of it came together to form anything coherent or good or significant at all. This is a slow waterfall of stomach-bile colored tar that has leaked onto the screen and forever stained this particular page. That is all.    Exorcize All Thought Dreams and ambitions all tied up in a noose Hanging from eroded, sea-green steeples Rising above, crooked and careening, From the endless ocean of our shared shadows Your blood pools underneath my nails, You are not forgotte...

 Time doesn't fix anything. It's all inescapable and impossible to stop. My brain is in a murky soup of lithium and whatever the hell else they have me on now. At night it makes me lightheaded and dizzy, I'm starting to struggle to see straight. During the day it makes me feel nauseous and nonexistent, flickering through an invisible and painful schism in reality. My mind is elsewhere, my creativity is gone, I'm trying to hold on to something here but it all goes away. I don't know what I'm saying anymore, here's a new poem.  Let This Be the End What is this thing That is thinking of me? What is this thing That is creeping from within my bed And making crimson fountains From my limbs?  What is this, Swelling wildly  In the maelstrom of my gut? Engorging my veins  And growing out from my chest Like anemic opium fields  With weeping decapitations Weighing down the spindly, blackened stems. What is this voice  Drowning me under Smouldering waterfalls of p...