terra nada this is too much not right that can't be right doubt such a tiny pulse sends me is this worthwhile do i have a choice that's the clincher there is none they're yelling out screaming now in their torture cell this skull casing writhing immobile lamenting my imprecision is it the pen no the mouth maybe where does it start the blood pump electric torments in grey matter wars endless with rest brief how i cherish the lapses the joy not now now is something different a drive perhaps the only act i can still perform this pen tearing across the page they won't want to hear about my suffering remind them of their own what they've kept locked for years they are experts at distraction at blotting decay with visions of strength of dominance not this unmanly unwomanly inhuman timidity cackling like dry leaves on dry concrete the Fates floating over the barren this pain like nights spent twisted in bed coughing up a wretched fetus a husk of rot from my stomach no the heart or the intestines like a worm dangle meat above my open mouth till he sticks his head out wriggling he can't help it none of them can the flesh is too tempting hunger is something to rely on when nothing else there is always starvation bring me back to sense to civilization no no this is not normal pills pills are there any pills to make me forget to anaesthetize make me hover my brain flooded with dopamine i could write forever now when i need to live if that is what you call it i am in between what to do when the pain is inadequacy an ecstatic sensation of failure i'm not up to par with humanity throw me to the maggots at least they will find joy i only want to ring more happiness out of this crumbling sponge world that's what poets do i'm told sing songs of refuse forgotten make the offal dance animate the human waste a final puppet show Alpha and Omega the score scrapings of steel on steel furrowing through the muck oh what joy will be had the critics will rave those with heads still above ice the rest will stare as always impressed possible not known they are forgotten holding their secrets telling none their words frozen long ago encased in ice bubbles in pockets of air that didn't quite make it only thing to guess what words were lost how many words are lost leave it to the census to tally songs half sung dwindled in air drifting off to ragged breaths and fits of coughing tales of life never told of aches of flashes of pain that paralyze marked only by gasps faintly heard forget them forget them you say but they always return until the end when all is still how i've yearned for stillness from the moment the womb first contracted from the first wave of nausea and the screams adapt you say but there is no getting used to this how can i breathe this fetid air bodies fixed in ice know secrets untold freeze my head if only to prolong but no check that i fear in a thousand years barring apocalypse the rude awakening suicide no good not true always an option not without a cookbook complex thing this death with no pain how was i when i thought i was if i could remember perhaps i could be but the moments come and go without explanation maybe i was eating digestion presumes existence in some circles others no will to power suicide's creed Nietzsche staring into the fire staring for years stillness achieved almost not quite and then yes done bury scatter the ashes for speed or let rot slowly like the rest why this need for affirmation to remember i exist to witness the reaction to map its course no beginning no end just variations in intensity lulls then swells in the murmurs if it wasn't so easy things have never been so hard there are moments yes but they come and go without explanation i am enthralled by the weather always coming and going without pattern without regret without conclusion i am a storm front wreaking havoc in my better moments not now now i am an ant humping humping the torso of a bee dragging it up this curb wall i've done it before i seem to remember i remember very little if i stopped to ask perhaps i'd find out but stopping is out of the question keep moving keep the words flowing and don't look back every now and then cover your tracks send them down a faded path that ends abruptly in a thicket of thorns make them crawl through it failing if only i had such power but that was denied me long before how can i direct in this landscape without mark without reference without map despite the fumblings of geographers this is terra nada i can't stop this won't stop this moment i'm stuck no way out if there were release i'd find it given my tenacity but things go on same as always it is certain nothing here but the jagged edges i love the ones that rake flesh when passed over heedless insanity may do it awhile have myself declared sent home shut in a room fed through a tube life would be grand no distraction just stillness break down i say break down go home to stare foaming at the mouth what is it that keeps me intact despite temptation the joke of reality the idea of reality if i couldn't laugh tortured i'd leave for good but the nebula this scatter cradles me perhaps i will order it for you for the world create a distraction call it drama we who sit on the brink mapping the jerks and machinations fans of a sport beyond rules which we play blindfolded and deaf mouths open and groaning have little else to do