A Perversion of Human Will


I take my seat at the mistake of the century,
A willing bystander, discomfited,
But curious of my own prophesying—
Heralded eons ago but never heeded—
To challenge my own prescience,
Even though I acknowledge the futility
In humoring such an action.
Never one for disguise,
I’ve laid bare every feeling,
Every thought to illuminate your transcendence,
So imagine my shock when,
Like a pollution of my sentiments
And a mockery of my adoration,
You stole the words from my mouth
And offered them to another.
As though a progeny of the debased,
You have settled for the undeserving,
Squandering your radiance,
Your gifts;
And very soon, I fear,
Your body will be forfeit
And something alien and unconsented
Will take hold of you, dragging you further
Into the abyss you yourself acknowledge
But plunge into headfirst,
Because fear—
Fear is a potent drug,
And you have not the power
To break free from it.

Raging Texan


You are a raging alcoholic,
A bleeding masochist
Delighting in the debauchery
You wade in to ignite your self-loathing
And justify the stoicism that defines your life.
You are the type of person,
So entrenched in hopelessness
That you would excuse a domestic abuser,
Because co-dependence outweighs your well-being,
Despite your assertions to the contrary.
And I, fatigued by observation,
Resort to this libelous tirade
For no other reason than to obtain a mote of agency
Among the shipwreck caused by your storm;
And should this offer offense,
I hope you file suit
If only to come face-to-face with the realization
That your self-degradation is not internal,
That your immolation is a holocaust
Burning those around you.
You tried your damnedest
To send me spiraling,
But you didn’t even have to lift a finger;
Without effort, you conceive of machinations
So twisted and deranged no other could birth them,
And plummet me into ruin
In some sick imposition of penance.
You have accepted your birthright to catastrophe,
Wielding your inheritance as a shield
To protect yourself from those
Who would sever the binding on your wings
And see you take flight to the heavens above,
Proving yourself a god among the paltry.
You have withered,
Dragging those unfortunate enough
To be caught in your grasp with you
And suffocating them in the smoke,
Drowning them in the liquid,
Surrounding them with the profane and degenerate,
Until all these ugly truths
Morph into something else entirely
And you can vindicate your rage in ubiquity.

Me, Vulnerable

Hand light particles

Here am I,
Vulnerable and exposed,
Because unlike the craven and weak,
I will not succumb to puerility—
Deluded by ego
Into believing there is strength
In shutting the world off,
Denying it my love and truth.
Revealing myself to her fully,
Whether in acceptance or rejection,
There is value in this soul’s existence,
And to repudiate that would be to blaspheme
Not only myself, but the spirits of those
Who would dare keep me in good company.
Even in the face of tragedy
The road to progress is singular,
And whether it cut me,
Bruise me,
Or hang me from the noose,
I will not lose sight.
Palm ever outward,
I will show them my own weakness,
My insecurities and fears,
And in the embrace of the few
Who would cherish me for all aspects,
I know there is a love that cannot be broken,
And when my moment is at hand,
I will die well because of it.

Pledge to the Orphan

World hands

Hello, world.
That’s what you are to me:
The axis upon which my psyche tilts,
The only sustenance for my soul.
There is no other light on this dismal earth,
Where monsters roam
And the living have lost their minds
To infections untreatable
Or stringency remorseless;
But you, my world—
You are that something special,
That substance to fill the hole
Torn so long ago in my heart.
Make no mistake:
Everyone sees you for greatness,
For their own ends,
Their greed and self-centeredness,
To provide themselves purpose
And take credit for your gifts.
I just want to see you smile,
To live, even in a land so bleak,
So debauched,
Because you are the sun,
The hope of the world,
And every day I wonder
How, after my vitriol and spite,
My gelid words to push you away
And turn your heart bitter,
That you still give me the time of day;
But more than that,
I fight to keep you near,
No matter the blood that will be shed,
No matter what lives are lost
Or if this world should descend into despair,
Because you, my world,
Are worth so much more.

The Only War That Mattered, Lost

Giants vs man

This is what war feels like—
Not a conflict of nations or political agendas
Waged in faraway deserts neglected,
With anonymous bombs falling overhead;
I am talking about the battle for a soul,
The desperate struggle to offer salvation.
After all this time, I still cannot prevaricate
And pretend I entered this war zone armed;
In fact, I was defenseless,
Helpless as a baby out of the womb,
And unprepared for the cost of bloodshed.
I scrambled when you unleashed your magic,
Reached out for any weapon I could find
To combat your dark god:
He you swear reverence to despite your repulsion.
I stood trembling before the monolith,
Wondering how I might ever conquer,
Ever slay such a beast,
But as I searched your eyes,
Beautiful even in their insipidity,
I realized you didn’t want him overthrown.
You prostituted your soul over and over again
For the mysticism he proffered,
Carving away a sliver of yourself with each transaction;
You are now a husk,
Depraved and possessed by this wickedness.
The malevolent deity that speaks in your voice
Is not you, but some perverse infection.
Tearful, I knew I could never conquer this spirit—
Your god—
And had I arms to attack, I would have cast them off then;
And all the same, I fled the wasteland you inhabit
To safer ground, to wet your grave with my tears,
Because you’re not alive—
Not really—
And because you have died, my love,
So have I.

Nefarious Emissary


This is what happens when we play with fire:
We burn bridges down
Because we trifle with things we don’t understand.
As hard as I tried,
I could never fathom you
Or comprehend your virulent mechanisms.
In retrospect, it’s so easy
To say I was unjustly tasked with this onus,
But not all of us are interested in the easy choice;
And besides, I accepted my charge with verve.
But now I stand accused of treason
And have been found guilty by the Mother of Pearl,
Who even now tortures me with the wails of a banshee,
To remind me of the promise I broke,
The assurance I could not fulfill,
And the sins that will never be forgiven.
I thought I could be more than a corrupt courier,
A nefarious emissary
Prophesying apocalypse,
But in these narcissistic attempts at aid
I lost sight of the glory before me;
Now my tongue has been cut out
And I drown myself in the lamentations
Of zombified souls reeking with self-pity,
Accepting the embrace of the hollow,
The dead,
The solitary.

Would it Kill You to Kill Me?

Author’s note: these are actually lyrics to a song I wrote some time ago. I have restructured them here to read a little better. I would share the song itself, but I’m shite at singing.

I’ve waited so long,
I’ve waited to carry you home in my arms,
I’ve waited for that second chance,
I’ve waited for that gift that you’ll never give.
I’ve waited for all the things—
Beautiful things that hypnotize and entrance.
Contemplate the rest,
And let me die with my head buried in your chest.

Would it kill you to kill me?
Would it kill you just to go ahead and set me free?
Would it kill you to kill me?
Would it kill you to eradicate this disease?

I can’t even bear it,
So go on take this confession
And tear it to shreds,
Hope there’s nothing left—
No memory of me for you to cling to.
And if I die, would that be enough for you to satisfy
Your sanguinary horrific desires?
Your catatonic liars?

Would it kill you to kill me?
Would it kill you just to go ahead and set me free?
Would it kill you to kill me?
Would it kill you to eradicate this disease?

I’m already dying,
So drive these nails in and crucify me!
These lacerations won’t last—
Merely another mistake from your past,
And I won’t pretend that they didn’t happen,
‘Cause you know they did.
Should I act in blind obeisance,
Or would you rather subject me to your abuse?

Would it kill you to kill me?
Would it kill you just to go ahead and set me free?
Would it kill you to kill me?
Would it kill you to eradicate this disease?
Would it kill you to kill me?
Won’t you do it for me? Won’t you, please?
Would it kill you to kill me?
Why can’t you for once deliver me?

Love and Tragedy Among the Stars

Love stars

Here I am, a helpless creature;
One-of-a-kind, wandering this planet alone.
This is how it’s always been:
Spending nights looking to the sky,
Wondering what may lay in the cosmos,
And traversing the lands—
My lands—
By day, tending to the gardens
In a solitude tranquil but colorless.
I could nary believe it
When, like a sword splitting the sky,
Your vessel bounded into my atmosphere;
I sprinted through forest
And waded through river,
Terrified and excited to discover
What had landed on my surface.
Perhaps it was because I had seen no life,
No other species breathing, walking, thinking,
But I was blinded by your beauty,
Rapt with the way you joined me,
Walking the gardens, nourishing the land;
Two creatures so different,
Aliens in one another’s eyes,
And yet at once hearing of the hostility
Of your volcanic home,
Full of ash and melted rock,
I could do nothing but offer you solace.
A lifetime spent roaming lands alone,
And come to find out, this was my purpose;
That moment I knew the years had been worth it,
And no longer did I look up to the sky
Or wander my lands in search and yearning,
For you were all I was looking for.
Dismayed I was, when you refused to walk any longer;
The serenity of this planet was not to your taste,
And despite my pleas, you would not listen,
But because I could not let you go,
Having broken into my world with such verve,
I left this land I had so loved
To venture to yours.
It was horrifying, and the moment our feet touched earth
Our skin was scalded and our lungs filled with smoke.
There is no life in your world,
No growth or peace or prosperity,
But perennial suffering and strife;
You were more alien to me then
Than you had been when I first saw you,
Absent of concept of extraterrestrial life.
But I knew I could never be happy,
Never be sane among the molten rock,
And so I fled back to my home,
Never again to know if you were safe,
If you had left your home again
In search of some place better,
Where you might thrive and heal.
All I know is I walk my lands every day
And search the stars every night,
Hoping to find your vessel
And the untouchable soul that sleeps within.

An Appeal of Sorts


I often wonder what would happen if I were to die tomorrow.
Would the lives I’ve drifted into weep for me?
Would there be eulogies and platitudes spoken in my honor?
How would you remember me, at the end?
Would it be with fondness,
As someone who loved you, lifted you up,
And offered something no one had before?
Or would you feel caustic, hating me
For my deprivation and abandonment?
You see, these are the thoughts that torment me,
Urging me to tear the flesh off my face
And immolate myself in some morbid asceticism;
But there is no atoning, is there—
No erasing pasts or healing wounds?
I can only hope tomorrow will not be my last
And, more importantly,
That whatever day is, you will be there beside me,
Standing vigil as my soul departs this realm forevermore.


I’ve committed suicide again
In hopes that resurrection
Comes in more than threes.
This is why I’ve no fear of death;
I’ve done it so many times already.
I walk, a specter on this earth,
Mourning the dead I have joined,
Because failure in life
Was an onus my soul couldn’t bear,
But here in the domain of Hades
The silence is just as insufferable;
I am blind to the presence I cherished most.
Now more than ever,
I realize death is no solution
To the problems of life,
And I can only hope there is a necromancer
To revive me again,
To make me more than a revenant,
To make me whole.