Petting Zoo

The disembodied head of a demon floating mid-air over a small boy in his bed.

This is the one about flowers and berries but not only.

Dreams and dream-related emotional residue carrying over into reality and this wave was not meant for you.

The broken facts and the fuzzy history of one life, or several.

Candle-lit ritualistic torture and incomplete lists of unimportant things.

The pendulum swings and muscle memory of obsolete and desperate wantings of assigning blame without ever accepting any.

The sound of Hang Him By The Ankles and I paid for you in blood.

Streams of thoughts broken up by intrusive hideousness leaving any and all conslusions to still be desired.

Tyranni and abuse, self-inflicted and inflicted onto others STOP.

I don't know why I drive sober, but I do.

Tongue as a welcome mat.

Try not to weep in the petting zoo.