good spider good

a good spider 

i once knew 

caught me 

in his web 

being broke down 

having nowhere else 

to turn i

did not fight i

let him enter 

no one else wanted me 

the poisons 

made me blissful 

numb such that all 

my woes 

died 

good spider 

wrap me in 

thread

#katyamills

sunday comes again

sunday comes again
in a cup of tea in a winter storm silently approaching

in red
in blue in white
world
at war

agents chew the thread
out like blistering metal music with teeth
and fuck up the spider web

how the world comes together
gathering all intel
2 penetrate islamic state

4 vengeance
4 the innocent dead
4 the bloodshed

sunday comes again
and i tell you it's out in the open

furious mad
it's terrible bad
gonna take lives 4 lives
without hesitation

refugee passports pulled
in the name of the innocent dead

hunting
for
the ones

i loved
you loved
we loved

sunday comes a deafening sound
 a bomb dropped off a drone
feeling kinda painful
alone

sunday comes again and god help us
raising our children
shelving our dreams

world peace is so much smaller than
this and some have gone away
never to return

sunday comes on fire
sunday comes with rain
sunday comes
sunday comes

again

society has come to polish off the self

I need complete silence for as many hours of every day and as many minutes of every hour and as many seconds of every minute as I can get. There are big ideas circulating which will otherwise be lost to dark matter, casualties of the smart phone alert system. And if comprehension of these ideas are lost, I will be lost with them. Society has decided communal is the only way, at the expense of any self. Myself, yourself. Society has declared the individual no longer to be trusted, no longer significant. Society has come to the internet to polish off the self. There is a war being waged for control over the web, a war of individuals demanding free expression against the ever matriculating constituents of the giant dark formless blob. Hold on to your hats!