Thunderous Guilt

The box was dark, damp and smelled of mold
The dirty lump of mass sat there in his frozen despair
The bugs crawled over his flesh and genitals
itching and picking at scars and thoughts.

I am the first me that is
The first me that has been tried
I am an experiment that has gone horribly wrong
Lifted from the rays of light to sit on the burning fire of life
Untamed and unyielding the birds have stopped singing
My guts hang from the pitch forks of hell
and my mind bathes in the rain.

The train thundered on across the tracks
the ground quaked with pain as it lifted the metal across the land.
1 and 2 and 2 by 1 the train hissed into the crazed wilderness
Bringing a quick thrill of wonder,
followed by the frightening destruction its left behind.

I have felt the darkness of Satan’s grasp
It burns a dripping, gloppy, hole in my flesh.
While leaving bits of nicotine in my wounds.
I crave, and starve for the sweet taste of pain
Leaving my soul to melt away into a gutter in an empty ally way.
My brain pumps, bump-bump

Alive the mass stands from its home,
The thunderous train clashes through the jungle.
The dirty mass peacefully picks up his pants and ties his shoes.
He gently, yet triumphantly carries him self to the metal.
His skin crawling and dripping with blood.
The eyes sting as they gather the horror.

Rush of blur, I felt in my mind.
The pictures of a life flashing and bright.
Smiles of people and friends.
My daughters eyes staring inside.

The destructive beats took its toll.
Breaking the sound of a wasted soul.
The sun was shining and the ground was moist.
The lump of mass lay life less in his home.


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