Assorted spine bones and a hundred pieces of cartilage and rivets—suspended in the thickest darkest purplest jello. Encased in a leather tube; more like trapped. Grinding and crackling as I twist and turn this dolorous wreck to see what the black horizon has for me. Crackle, crackle, snap. I wanna know what you’re doing. I wanna know what you’re doing…. As I climb these rickety stairs that are nowhere near as rickety as the machinery in my cocked and crumbling knee sockets. Crackle, crackle, snap and grind—as I climb to the top where I can finally relax and shed this tattered hide; these hackneyed rags. Eaten and spit out by daemons and moths. Let me stretch and sprawl out in my very own regal acid bath. Melt this decrepit skin and this curdled jello—Dissolve this pile of splintered bones and cartilage in your cauldron of burning eternity: the only thing that I have ever worshiped. Blub, blub, tssssssssssssssss….
death, life, worn, old, physicality