mea culpa

don't ask don't tell just asphyxiate| she/they, demisexual/romantic, lesbian| send me writing prompts! (please)

[thy-profound-idiot]

verily

jumping josephat and all his brothers

climb into the loft bed one by one

one by one they lie there

die there

the twelves tribes run dry and barren

the bees are extinct and the cows corrupt in office

farming for animals 101

.

not a lot to do on interstate christ on the way to crucifixion

golgotha is standing there in tall black boots and pearls and lace

she's smoking a cigarette of ash and myrrh

danger! danger! goes the blind man

scalesfellfromhiseyes

.

justice incarnate in creation in carnage

three eye trimind omnipotent forceps pointing down

universal petri dish petrol palace

gather and glean the shards of government

gone again

.

"don't you know!"

there's been a war going on, cheryl.

.

geranium geriartic

the water used for him traveling to soulless eclipses of nature and humanity

data centers mine? i don't think so, check lost and found

traversing counties and states till they enter my veins

i will pull them out till i deglove my own body

.

"i don't think i'm going to heaven."

a lying man tells one truth in his lifetime.

[thy-profound-idiot]

signaled lies and painted skies

mother mary metamorphosize

saintly commune eaten sharp

jaded dark put it in park

chaser thoughts ticket spots

punch and judy pop a cops

heretic lady like a lamb

arc and stark on demand

.

holy water record store

I can't help but ask for more

on my knees, debt in your eyes

lost between these reckless skies

balance check and burial plot

bring your soul in before it gets shot

cartoned milk and sidewalk crack

written by the hand of a hack!!!!

.

will she won't she where is she

exit that emergency

zero in zephyr in zeppelin

last room at the inn

.

my thoughts are static and scream into each other

a raucous cacophony of everything else

bits and clips and burns and bridges

overlaid porcelain to mask my mind

there's always something in there under or over

undiagnosis and diaphragmous dismembered diamond

coal half shaped half baked like clay

the beginnings of something great

or narcissistic microwave reheated offsprung?

.

to live is to make

to die is to create

a comet amid eye skies and tired mine

i will be one and again myself forever and ever amen

currents behind my lids and ophelia rivers amid among

just ice just us blinded get BENT get burned

.

come take a walk with me

find what's back here bulletproof

there's always something thrumming humming singing sighing

two steps away from dying

diet death and Elizabeth

queen of pertinenth

passerby

[thy-profound-idiot]

three of a kind, mind over matter

lost to the hare and son of a hatter

jubilee listens, apathy strays

sandbox approach to her fate

.

spots in hand and pen naught idle

he writes cloven freedom while the

sun delays and candidates

speak quaint on lures and baits

.

raving away to none to listen

she sits in minervic pits of flame

burning with ire for the band

to step off of time and remate

.

quelled by tower, sung survival

grendel marks three instead her

madman milady meek and mindful

jubilee stopped listening today.

.

citrus tree cyclamen laundry fold

you're not nothing if you're big and bold

billboard buddy, promised death

hold it close till there's nothing left

sandbox rhymes when it's out of style

you might be cool and you might be vile

barren and broken to cherry tree

dug right under to find the key

the way she bites the way she roars

jaguar spotted till the weather's sore

mirrored till certain and heaven sent

mirrored till there's no more blessings left

courier service, countrymen

hate your mother but you love your friends

speak into that urn for me

speak unto that cherry tree

the broken vase oh the broken vase

broken vase, here lies church & state

[thy-profound-idiot]

writ of will and power, esquire

lyrical loser of lilac liability

writer of woes and wars

silence follows us like a bane, a blight

lover of mine, where goeth the fight?

.

blissful empath of no return

i watch you pass through halls of tired timbre

echoed loud and lofty is your presence protected

wreathed in sheaths of no sound

.

knives, my love, knives!

knaves and knights would die and try for you

i am both and none, just known, know this:

reposition deposition detraction remand

.

spun fairy, fairly, justine solomon

cut child in twain, twixt we have now

nonsense spills from my lips the same way your name does from my heart

shot dead and departed upon first sight

.

roses and cyclamen, dahlia dear

black hearted, white upon our wedding day

crimson upon the snow, achilles eyes you

and gifts me his ankles for first watch, forevermore

[thy-profound-idiot]

the inverse of thought is to think, the inverse of hear is raehs of sunlight, therefore, o watcher, go blind !1

alone at the edge, the precipice, the shore

fevered and furious

i will die if i don't create, i will die of comet blood and asteroid breath

written in my tombstone, written in the moonlight, lamplight, love

if i have nothing else to offer to the world let me off myself, my love, my light to that of decoration

literal liturgy lieth here, lo and behold

lovely in memory, mammary

suckle at the breadth and breath of one above and beyond to above and beyond the meaning of all

i don't understand, i seek understanding

why does my mind work this way in fractions and spirals

endless crosswords with hidden wires i cannot seem to connect but always listen to

.

thoughts like static, i am always tuning into my subconscious

hallucinate perforate performance

every aspect of creation, you shall become mine, i will find you in some lifetime and some grasp

rhythmless periodical o'er headboard rest, dreaming fickle, resting soft

you don't understand? i don't think i ever will.

[thy-profound-idiot]

state of disarray striped with peppermint malice ad asterix per asterix

recording_3.tip'siphone.mp3________,,,,feedback.staticwhiteexittleftcoffeeshopwithiceleftright,,,,screamsandcriesofthehopefulnuclearfamilygonenuke.,,,,,

"i just work here, lady!"

.

this land was your land is now "my" land won't be for long

black birds sail over washington sky

sailor's warning in the morning

and at night, no lullaby

glory, glory, oh god, what glory

what a hell of a way to die

.

i miss the country i was born into

boughten lies with a sense of pride and peace and joy

child misguided with starry eyed patriotism and jonny apple juice

first in freedom last in facism as we fall to that which we fought against

founding father forever forgotten in folly and false fealty to a felon, a fraud

declaration of resemblance as the constitution is erased under our noses and replaced with orwellian structure, oh well?

nazi-esque roots become sprouts become branches become salutes and we repeat our enemies of 80 years ago

nuremberg, gutenberg, press to paper to prison, patri-politicide

of my country, theirs, yours, ours

" don't you mean whomst?"

.

stars and stripes dying/dyed all one color.

running down her leg, his head, their heart

my body.

.

KILL SHOT drop dead no bandage nothing but dead eyed open to the sky there is no blood in an empty wound

vampires beyond number as they suck the wealth from the working man and keep it in their coffers

i watch as my friends lose healthcare and their knees by 33

(lives by 31)

no ethical billionaires blimpie subway quiz? no. it's reality

stream_of_oiloilyoilylordgodalmighty.incognito_tab>running

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oh, with ice please

bezos become burnham become burnt books and beatitudes as they cry christ! christ! lord! and then deglove his burnt body in six months time

running .exe/cutive office___/cution in the streets

our caretakers are being crucified before our eyes on fox news

shot in the street like pigs by pigs for pigs

tale as old as time and revolutionary rhyme, we've seen this game before

play apostle, aristotle

nonsense, quieter !!!

"and a little child shall lead them" Donald J. Trump is an American businessman, celebrity, billionaire, television producer. Born June 14th, 1946, at 79 years old, he is the 45th and 47th president of the United States.

keysmash take it back take me forth

.

we are discontinuing our own line for the crucifixion of empathy

surgical_removal.pdf_in_office. KILL PROGRAM

!

silent and riggered and hung.

.

ripping throat into butterfly seam

the immolation of the american soldier and the american dream

goodby_3e_

"BREAKING NEWS FROM THE OFFICE OF THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES"

.

think back to the death of the mayan theory

leave stonehenge unturned---/as above they're leaving the terminal

a single black dot, a word, a comma, a letter, an "end to a means" some neighbors say

as of fourteen, in twenty, i still don't understand

every vestige of theological electricity knotted into my axons despite the muscle tear and pull asks/begs/cadges for a fluke

a false alarm

a nother play of power as we watch the semi-daily politimedy of 8 am bounce off the whitewashed walls of the house of the downing sun/son/simpleton

caligula caligula wherefore art thou

thy horse hath changed, caligula

it has grown wings and teeth longer than wings that will bite off so much more than it can fathomably chew

your kingdom for a single horse with unmentionable saddlebags fashioned by pratt & whitney

sundry oil best

"can you see him?"

pray to a god you can't believe in that the roar of the ocean is just your own blood pumping in triplet time in aegean compound, confounding

tachycardia beloved of 93 million as sign.of.life

key of h, keep it strait

"a whole civilization will die tonight"

ironic jaw

"BREAK HER!"

the needle stays unthreaded. the needle stays. it stays. stay home.

"why can't we ever stay home?"

.

it's a beautiful day.

[thy-profound-idiot]

telephone, gordian, goudian, you got it

did you know that no matter everything

the porch light has always stayed on?

.

no matter what act of stupidity

committed or spoken

it's always been kept alive

.

kick ass and take in estranged siblings

should be in your social bios

ten years and two many recessions betwixt

singularly, your mother and mine, unfortunately

.

everything you do is with fire and passion

including your hair

both cheeks, bottom line

eclipsing gratitude

fill rooms with your light and latitude

even when it's dark for you

i watch you become so much in zest and zealotry

for the everything you care about

and in toddler shoe rhythms

model walk mimicry over the years

.

language has never been my strong suit

my only ace is the whole of my screen

words are spades and clubs

.

there are a thousand mirrors i've seen you in

and i'll continue to see you in a thousand more

through the funhouse we've walked through so far

.

in the meantime, though.

no matter where, who, what i was or what i thought or said or acted out

there was always, and has always been

admiration and idolization

for the person i wanted so badly to be when i grew up.

.

.

.

thank you for the light.

[thy-profound-idiot]

belligerence.

there is an old white man a few steps from my yard's end

a sawed-off in his hard wrinkled hands

eyes blue with age

crusted with hate

you know what he's saying

.

devil or angel's numbers?

1/6/2020

the capitol of "the best nation in the world"

and a dairy queen in {redacted for privacy}

the beast awakening over livestreamed cones and radio burgers

"lock your doors and arm yourselves"

is this what 9/11 felt like?

circa 2000, rising gemini, a full moon for the american people

.

when did existence become a privilege, every breath a boon?

i have friends worried for the end of their lives, others i'm worried about them ending it sooner.

myself i am too tired of being angry

too tired of being literate

but just angry and literate enough to keep reading the headlines reading my rights goodbye

the only one i have left is to keep silent

r to l, right to law

keep silent keep sweet

keep sangfroid in his cradle, keep cattleprodded and lobotomized till your tongue is fallen out alongside your brains

keep straight and narrow lest your tongue crookedly, broadly swipe up the valley you call home

(they call it the valley of the shadow of death, but that is only because the cherry orchards down there have been picked so oft they are barren and brazen)

keep calm and carry out orders and children until your insides become your outsides and the rainbow inside is bled dry for his pleasure.

"the dessication of the american housewife, ladies and gentlemen, is in wing 64!"

.

tenderhearted.

i used to be so tenderhearted as a child, a babe.

i used to have compassion, have love, understand what that meant even in violent corners.

i learned contempt through the a/c system.

abhorrence like a second language through the walls of my parents'.

fear and disgust and injustice curricula, indoctrination an after school club

a second consciousness came unto me at 17, the color finally settling in at 20.

and i am trying to relearn how to be tenderhearted, how to give a shit, how to be love your neighbor without wishing them in essentia dead, and how to not immediately give up and revert back to old habits, nea home after i watch a man too rich too spoiled too dead in two years from heart failure play with the world as does a hardheaded, hardhearted, hardassed little boy with his ball, having a four year old play soiree with his friends.

how strange it is to watch this from the other side of the fence.

the consequences are so much bigger this time.

.

pisces sun, aries moon, by the way.

.

there is an old white man a few hundred miles in the center of my country.

a ballpoint in his hands.

there is hate in every inch of him.

you know what he's saying.

[thy-profound-idiot]

passing through karmic interstates and i have seatbelt burn lines

boggling spoken through rodentia

still streaming inside cranial airwaves !

the invite code is . …- . .-. --. .-. . . -. . -..

.

annually speaking, cap or crown? who knows

except that content is not a virtue nor a feeling but rather a form of existence and that can mean nothing to you but everything to me

and that's fine

it's fine

because it's my tolkien of luck and ground

.

…. . .-. . .. … .-.. .. - - .-.. . .- -. -.. .-.. .- .-. --. . .. .-. . --. .-. . - -… ..- - .- .-.. .-.. .. -.-- . .- .-. -. ..-. --- .-. .- -. -.. … - .. .-.. .-.. -- --- .-. . .. .-- .. … …. - --- . .- .-. -.

.

half a decade has passed since the worst of the wasteland

and i'm living in it with it, i'm all about it

it's still the vast majority of thought but i'm finding new material daily and i can thank my lenses

my lenses

retinal process and color palettes and the natural sphere

for the content i experience and work from

.

my hands grow older every day and i watch the lines sprout and form topography as i play architect whether i wish or no

rivers and roads and ravines and rhines written in rolling, ravenous rind ratio'd

there is no epidural for epidermis but that's fine again, it's mine again

mine and more and moving

i'm still live tweeting, aren't i?

.

i lost a lot last year but i've gained so much more than i ever, ever thought i could

.

dreams and dreaming still

.

i think

looking back

it's more cap

less crown.

[thy-profound-idiot]

cat hair on a halogen lamp but neither of them are mine

epiphany talking loudly in my ear underwater

.

when i am 54, 76, 98, will i still have this refuge? will i look back on my creations with a solid mix of more pride than sorrow?

.

will i weep for what i have lost in my youth but gained as i age will the hallways of words and time unfurl themselves before me or will i have my own sense of pompeii, frozen in time and with memories lost to the wind and incident

.

i grew up in a volcano, so to speak .

i sit on the couch, browsing through design ideas and facebook and instagram and gmail/outlook and know that in two months i'll be looking for an apartment in which i'll have My lamp and My cat hair for the first time in my life .

i'm happy. i'm genuinely. truly. so very happy.

[thy-profound-idiot]

ode to getting better in f# maybe?

the idea of tracking my daily moods has never appealed to me

how revolting it is

(in my mind)

to figure out how rad my brain is doing at 3:29 pm

only to have it change by 4 by some freak figure of nature (some sigma asshole almost hit me crossing the walk to samaha's because he has a big ford and small penis)

those temperature rugs and quilts and scarves

coloring pages and flower apps

never appealed to me

my attention limited, my will fickle

i could never keep a diary as a kid for two reasons

no talent for routine

and my mother's a snooping bitch

.

i find out in the middle of the day now

"how are you?" someone asks

i'm trying to stop saying tired

and instead reflect on how open i am to being that day

there are five slices in my pie of life chart

how do i feel about the world

how do i feel about living

how do i feel about my peers

how do i feel about myself

how do i feel about the passage of time and where my future is headed and did i take my meds today i hope i didn't doublebook myself two weekends from this saturday god i really need a calendar i'm soooooo fucking hungry what's for dinner if it's fucking pork loin again i'll kill myself

like i said

i have no talent for routine

but i'm uncannily good at compartmentalizing

.

your outfit looks awesome

i love your hair

your makeup is so good

you're so talented

how are you?

love you!

.

*sends something fucked up from my pinterest feed as a thinking-of-you memo*

[thy-profound-idiot]

make a playlist of every single song i fall in love with this year or die living

hey google

open the notes app

"Ok. Opening notes app."

how may times did jesus christ have to enter the motherlode cheat into chat so that jeff bezos would reach level 10 in the fabulously wealthy aspiration here on sims earth?

"Sorry, I didn't understand that."

hey google, why can't i get drunk on antidepressants?

"Here are some resources for SAMSHA. Please reach out if you are in a crisis."

hey google, play noah kahan.

"Ok. Calling Noah - Manager Dairy Queen."

nononononono

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

.

i started resoluting in my notes this year on the fourth of january at 2:36 PM while the sun was shining and bright

they're all basic if you were wondering (you weren't)

but babygirl you haven't LIVED until you've switched soul lanes from 2D to 3D

and i'm on my way to 4D like most of tesla's car line

plastic wrap seeps through my blood and most days i feel like a bubble

burnished and gaudy and so transparent and fragile that one hard looney tune look could break me

break me

make me

do something with me

god please

"if i don't create something i'll die"

how every starving artist comic of you

sit down and let the finance majors talk

.

sanguine and silent

go to five new cafes

accomplice and compliance

get two new tattoos

i cried twice at work in a week for the first time since 2020

make a day trip to vermont

but that's what you get when you take 40 mg of fluoxetine a day

sell ten items of clothing

there is little to be done but all there is to do

get a lava lamp

the rest of my life starts in four months

finish your stick and pokes, bitch

and for the first time, i'm not frightened of what lies between now and the finish line

.

make a playlist of every song i fall in love with this year

hey google, play sir duke

[thy-profound-idiot]

briefly, buzzballs have no effect on me

every year i reach into myself and grow out of my own skin and into branches of knowledge and karma

my skin grafts into new experiences and i find myself at home in places i never expected

i sit in households filled with love and laughter for the first time in my life as i approach my final semester of college

smile to myself drunkenly

and lean down to take another bite of my burritos carnitas

.

for the first time, i'm infinitely excited for a new revolution .

for one of the first times, i know that this is exactly where i'm supposed to be.

[thy-profound-idiot]

my head hurts and I want to kill myself again.

I fucked up without thinking but I did think actually

I thought based off patterns and such that they'd want to see their best instate friend one more time before they left for good, possibly forever

I also thought it was unfair that they wouldn't say goodbye to others as much as they didn't want to

why can't we say goodbye

why can't we say goodbye??

.

not to be so much of an asshole but I can only think of what if something happened and people never got to say goodbye

.

i sometimes truly wish that we had never met

and this is one of those times.

[thy-profound-idiot]

and let them feed me with the words of their mouth, says the lord

i keep it closed and sewn

yahweh may starve, i will dance on his desiccated corpse

wise to the word, none else divided

these mean nothing to me

nothing but wet and wild fornication

pearl rosary wrapped around a slitted, slutty throat

rememberance of me as i get on my knees and scream into her dripping cunt

the light of heaven shuns me and i weep for those who have lost everything in the false sight of a fat-tongued, false series of prophets

.

and let her worship me with the kisses of her mouth, says-

[thy-profound-idiot]

tonight i feel like speaking in tongues i should be excommunicated from but the sparkling heavens are too much to be rendered mute on blender 2.0

how wondrous! how vast! how wild! how extreme!

the heavens above sing to me late at night and i hear them and hear them and listen to their timbre and tone with earbuds in and dirt path indie (gregory alan isakov) feeding intravenous into my bloodstream

intrinsic am i, insane even

valueless of nothing but wit and word

eyes open and swallowing all that is fed to me

.

the bridge restrains atlas from shrugging

but i wish he'd do it all the same and let me die in the coldest fired bliss none have yet to know

what would my epitaph hold?

to be killed, to be erased from existence by the universal ceiling crashing, nature's light fixture snapping and suicide

murdered! by the stars

telephone wires do nothing but affix lines to the constellationary clef and bass

and i revel in symphonic silence

the domed spiraled hemisphere significant to everyone and no one and just me and every pantheon described by human imagination just. there.

o! to live in a world without pollution and pride

every sparkling breath, every celestial seltzer to get blackout drunk on

mother nature's cellar, attic

it doesn't matter

they are rare and aged all the same

.

2 am and i finally understood the oldest nursery rhyme

.

how wondrous, how wild, how lovely and strange and superior and beautiful it is to be alive.

[thy-profound-idiot]

this mind of mine is laid and low

.

"when you find an old picture of us

and you clear away the dust

i hope you miss me sometimes"

never and ever and never again

.

my feet are locked in the river in the sand

food for thought for fodder

stolen mind and memories ebb and flow

.

this body of mine is fading fast again again

i hate myself and who i am

who i be

who i constantly find myself off and on again

i will be on these pills for ever and there is nothing wrong with that in theory

but reality practices way too much and my head hurts

head hurts with the force of my emotions and my love

the love i cannot feed to others yet do yet vomit when i take it back

.

i find pleasure to sleep and sleep to find pleasure

ouroborous rem cycle hick thighed melatonin chaser

i slip below the covers and my nightmares drown me and pull deep and down and sideways

and i confuse them for reality when i wake

and forget them a half hour later

(muscle memory doesn't)

but i can't cry i can't cry i can't make myself cry i cannot

why can't i cry anymore

i just want to cry

i just

my body is choking in on itself as it regurgitates its own throat

no matter who or where i am i need to suffer and to be stuffed shit full of guilt

.

i don't want to kill myself i truly don't but here i am again

here i be

alone and lonely and i look out beyond myself in pain and pandemonium and i can do nothing

.

i guess the mosquitoes suck me off cause they like the taste of my ssri

.

lamplights and fog in the woods and i feel like im home again i miss myself and who i was why do i miss myself and who i was

why was she more of a person than i am free at 23

.

the river keeps me anchored to the shore while i ride out my latest scheduled depressive episode and the airtime

the airtime is so thin.