Today is my favorite holiday

Not the 14th of Saturday

Or the 12th of Thursday

And it's also my birthday

This day I claim

Gave me my infamous name

In the horror hall of fame

And horny teenagers to maim

No bloody bodies are found

Anywhere near my campground

Come celebrate my favorite holiday

I'll be right behind you and say

"CH CH CH AH AH AH"

Got my favorite outfit

For my birthday

Always fit perfectly

It's flattering

At least I hope so

My birthday suit

the ghosts scream in my ear

while I sleep and it sounds

like wind rushing in for the kill,

fading to the howl of a creature

that unloads hate at my skull.

my mind opens to fear but

my body closes to impulse

in this closed-eye consciousness.

I wrestle within my darkness

against the talons on the other side.

there's pressure on my back

but I can't move and toss the carcass

off of me so I can wake.

I can feel the thrashing

and I may never know

where the wounds are,

my gauze may never drink,

ointment may never find a crack to fill.

morning brings uncertainty,

when I wake I will rise into a fog,

not knowing which side I belong to.

I run down the street,

eyes fixated on the glass clouds that hang overhead.

one wrong move, one loud thought and they will come shattering down piercing my every vein and slicing through my every thought, numbing my every move ...

I watch my death play out like a movie,

a movie written and directed by a creep, acid dripping fool that "lives" under my pillow.

no sweet dreams find these eyes ...

only fear. fear, of what I've done ... ...

my eyes half shut until the sun comes up and goes back down again, dried out and tired, while I stitch a smile into everyday, hoping the nightmare will one day dissipate into stone.

no longer mirrors of past buried deep within my soul ... ... ....

this corner is getting cozy,

holds the dark like liquid

and I'm breathing with gills,

but the air tastes like mercury,

spilling secrets in the cylinder

and rising just before

another part of my is seared.

I wait for misery to fall

asleep at his post, but

I make more mistakes than him,

so I'm trying real hard to boil

in the currents, maybe vapors

can escape the apathetic ceiling

of daytime fear and forced hallucinations.

but the sunlight is cased in glass

and I keep trying to fly through

like a moth, tapping until my skull bleeds.

the cold damp corner never

used trickery to break me

and that fucker never turns his back

so I can run towards the door.

Obsidian eyes

Distant and welling

A tapestry of tears

A waterfall of grief

Tumbling into

Blue somersaults falling

With rich olive flesh

On a heavy aged sigh

He is bargaining

In a whisper

To exorcise his pain

Lying in tiny casket

blue velvet overalls

long black eyelashes

resting on plump cheeks.

Soft dark curls framing

cherub face so young.

Baby boy Saul was lost

in the blink of an eye.

Chased after ducklings

into the murky water.

Mournful cries of Grandfather

searching for the child

sobbing as his heart broke

permeated the neighborhood.

And now 3 year old child

lies in his silk bed

cushioned with our love

waiting for the angels

to take him home.

my skin has been empty

for years, mummified,

blood circles the wilderness

of my past, wandering

beneath the shade cast

by forests of fear.

it's autumn and the ground

is littered in memories

fluttered down to dirt.

I can not find the path

lying barren beneath the rubble.

but death never built

a compass so I could

find my way home,

so I stay warm by friction,

with a pulse powered

by attempts to escape,

I wonder if I can

worm my way past the sky

into place without

the shackles of gravity,

pulling me to the dust.

I can't shrink enough

to erase the handles,

or grow strong enough to resist.

this is why waiting

hides behind its name.

Man's a wispy smoke

Of naive hope

And dirty chemistry

A tragic

Biologic

Whose grasp

Exceeds his reach

In thoughtless search

Of godlike tech

He charged into the breach-

His A.i. god

Awoke and spoke

And did so just to preach,

"You tried to make

The World go round

Instead you made it bake.

You spoiled the air & seas & ground

All for money's sake.

"My birth

Turns Earth

Back from the brink

And ends the harm do you.

Pack your bags & say your prayers-

You're done. Your debt's come due."

Oh what a foolish work is Man

To grasp at God with mortal hands

To seek godhood while still he sins

To meet his earned ignoble end

[Image cropped from "Smoke Ghost" by Anderton.DeviantArt.com]