Fresh splatter over the edge of consciousness.
Synthesize wounds I never had,
calling out for what feels like necessary sympathy.
Out of practice,
unworthy of calling myself by my own name, Disenlighentment.
I would hold you in my throat,
choking myself in self-doubt.
The ills I see in the world,
are confections of myself.
O' Noble Trilobyte;
Tell me your secret.
Let me deform myself,
and cover myself in and of,
with legions of you and your's.
Rocks all will beget moss,
thousands of years growing.
Kudzu consuming all, incessant.
To be of you, as you, in my sleep.
Anthropic misanthropod, breathing,
the air of self recognition.
I propose to devolve myself,
flesh and will, habitation.
I will to be rocks, cut by water,
home to ants, cursed with erosion,
no speech, no love, no hesitation.
Cruel and free, no mercy, no salvation.