[Untitled Dec.23.2023]
god once spoke to me. in the chittering voice of a thousand bugs across my bones. it chewed into my eyes and i saw its face for the first time in the viscera. borrowed into the tender jelly of the brain and told me its secrets.
i slept and in my dreams i saw myself. i was the bugs. i was god. but i was a poor liar and watched godhood falter. skipping like a cd of halloween sounds found on the side of a dirt road. it bled and its blood was the smoke of my burning past.
waking up was always the hard part. the thin words god once spoke held on like spider's web. beautiful patterns i traced with my fingers. the crows wanted for the rotting brain in my head but god had closed my eyes and muffled my brain. i felt their feathers, their claws, i heard them speak too. the croak of beasts who once knew my tongue. once held it in their beaks.
my room is an empty space. no gods or bugs or crows or eyes here. apotheosis leaves an aching void. the void yearns and years for touch. the room is alive and it wants so badly to be whole. to be filled once again. it stretched until my heart collapsed and whatever god made of us died that day.