do you feel it?


the bloods rushing through my veins,
going to my brain
its making me dizzy,
the things that miss me

im a target without a bulls-eye
an eternal life form waiting to die
a force to behold
yet im so alone,
stark white, the colour of bone

a buried memory,
a + b without c,
a volcano that's gone cold
an ancient being
that just won't grow old

so whats there about me?
a vague misunderstanding,
taken out to sea,
violence is always the key,
the secret to any home

a criminal on the run
a killer, your neighbor
a soul without favor
your not the only one.

hey look at me, im an art fag!

UNFINISHED

UNFINISHED

UNFINISHED

UNFINISHED

trash?

trash can be a lot of things.
you can talk it.
you can throw it out.
you can be it.
you can burn it.
you can see it.
you can smell it.
you can feel it.
you can touch it.
trash is brilliant, it knows no true form,
except the human interpretation.
its ignored by most, but offers food and clothing for others.
it can be waste. it can be treasure.
are we, humans, just God's trash?