Progress-Regress

I took a drill to my temple. I was wondering what's inside. Just a world of grey mincemeat and one hundred haven't trieds. I drove an iron bolt through my spine. I wanted to hold myself aloft. But the world keeps on spinning with my feet up off the ground. I drag my heart behind me. I can't carry it anymore. This world is burned and dirty I should leave it on the floor.

Retreating footsteps in the greenhouse. Heavy breathing, Condensation, Sweat. Blood and cream, Fading pulse. This is where I grow my new skin.

Gather around children and listen, for if you don't heed this lesson it could be your last. I recount to you a legend who's roots are so deep and penetrating that they overstep the bounds of human history. For once upon a time, long past where we dwell today. All of humanity lived in relative harmony, every man had his place, and every one had a woman beside him. Though this may stir disbelief and seem like a utopia born only in the most deluded of minds, it is a truth that is far from echoed today. Back in those bright and beautiful days, people were as happy as people can reasonably be, though dangers still lay in wait. The seeds of horro

The roads were choked with cars full of panic and confusion. The forecast was heavy snowfall overnight, people were warned not to try and leave their homes, and if they had to, that they should take blankets and a shovel with them in case. Tesco was having a sale, buy one get one free survival bundles containing some blankets, a shovel, bottled water and tinned food supplies. It was crowded with ugly mad people frenziedly buying things they thought they needed. It was snowing, and it was starting to settle. A grim reminder of the imminent threat of nationwide stupidity and an unnecessary breakdown of all civilisation. By the time we finally

My eyelids are thumbs that press on my eyes until they are forced into the back of my skull, there they cut cores into my brain and try to search what lurks in my mind. Between folds of pink bloody flesh electric pulses dance and along them slither muted neon eels with light bulbs shining through their scaly skin. They bite down on the scruff of my brain then drag it all around, knotting it, pairing it and performing their origami to manipulate it into calabi-yau shapes like a fabulous slide teetering on the edge of an event horizon. I stick my hands into the sockets for my eyes and wriggle my fingers around to try and find them in my head, i

A line might form inside my head Though words should gush forth from my heart Designing worlds to leave for dead The crime ignorance we call art Thoughts quite thunderous softly tread Some enough to be veiled in part Blast creativity apart A line might form inside my head Stifled by the template ahead The things meaning swiftly depart Finding that tomorrow I dread Though words should gush forth from my heart Something else that I'd tried to start The forge roars rivers molten red Life dawns and I fail to impart Designing worlds to leave for dead Smiles and applause naught but a thread Ghastly reviews would prove your smarts

Little Sue High socks, blonde pigtails Sweet caress She wonders Why it always has to be Black eyes and white lies

Wrapped in a patchwork blanket He don't even know his name No outward sign for ten years Could be wasted love