his skin is the color of the sky at sunset. he is broken into pieces. glass. it shines and reflects light with a gleaming hue of hopelessness. his pieces fit together in the most chaotic of fashions. it is beautiful. he is love. burning out from the core with a soft light. the harsh texture of his defense. skin.


high up.

straight shot up to the bottom

there’s nothing back from here love

nowhere to go but in circles

I’ll show you the way

there’s only one way to go

and it’s left

from here you must go

forward to the back

and up to the bottom

take yourself around

go inside to the future

step up and dive through

to the middle.


one eye was bigger than the other and skewed upward on his face. his mouth jutted from his cheek to chin and his lips looked like the muscle broke free and curled back over his skin. I could see the twisted bone coursing under his flesh. he was a gaunt creature. his neck spiraled downward to a small, thin lump you could call shoulders. he had two massive hooks forced through the meat of his chest, they were chained to anchors at his feet. his chest was free of blood except four thin trails running down toward his hips. the scarring over his freakish, long arms was a bloody mess. they hung at his sides like burdens of weight he could hardly stand to bear. his pelvis was a mutilated, torn mass that looked to be of a pulpy consistency. I could see the terrible injury throbbing and pulsing. chunks of meat and goo strung from his groin to his thighs. his legs extended from his frail hips. they twisted, bent, and snapped inhumanly all the way to his feet. his toes grew from his gouged feet into the earth beneath. they rooted there and I watched them burrow through the ground like worms. he looked so sad.