As their love of life subsided

As choking screeches reached a peak, aged children’s sickly heaven became only edging, never ecstasy—the self-mutilating journey to escape reality;

their hell’s gate: the instant a boregasm began to decline;

there, a cluttered mountain of discarded wombs and pointless warriors—all fake-fucking their way through the tears of a slow, sterilized suicide;

as minders strove to stabilize the terror they had normalized in titanic mazes of musical chairs, rearranged by color—from white to white.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s