Mycorrhizal Network

I am a pit of sunshine
Burrowed within your roots
I am an atmospheric river
Absorbing rainfall within your leaves
Bloom, flower in me, release and believe
I am the lichen to your mycelium
Ecstatic underworld connection,
Morbid substantiallity
I am your photosynthesis
Won’t you be my dextrose?
Yes arise sir knight,
Instantiate this inception.

I am the Phantom Queen

Longing, listless, lifeless
Vital impetus drains itself out my fucking chest again
Covered in slime of sorrow and solicitous sickness
I crave the four thieving accomplices of oxymel ichor;
Necromantic maledictions which should not be performed with cadavers after gloom

These thoughts thunder through my proclivities
Assaulting my awareness with their raw ferocity
Twin blades, laceration, haemorrhage
I will make you bleed – sticky, mulled, carmine liquor
On my crusade to find puissance beneath your cum stained sheets

Thanateros the primeval farrago of fate
Choke it down, choke on it, as I thrust it down your fucking lungs
Sacrifice this penitentiary of your inception unto me, love
As I devastate your soul and amalgamate it within myself anew

Object, object, I object
Objection! Your dishonourable disgrace
Who is this me who objects agin objectivity?
Who is vehemently violated as a voracious vampire?
Iron spikes and fetters and poniards and stakes
Charge through this chamber, in the oubliette of our fucking minds
Grating bareback emotions within the delicate folds of our blistering carnality

I want to seize you, bewitch you, dominate your entirety
And I will take it, I will take what is mine with fire and blood, I will take you
And sear my name on your ravaged skin
Cruciatus and cauterise my frenzy within you
Until there is no you that remains
Only me, only mine.



I am breathless, reposed
Pores agape, thighs splayed wide
Bottom cheeks flushed aubergine and wine
Honeypot dripping ambrosia
Fabric rent out of sight

And soulish arousal surges my midnight eyes, the Stygian dam blown aside
Flooding my inflamed face, dripping with rhapsody into my coveting mouth
Eruption of animalistic necessity
Peaking endlessly into your cloud nine

Demand my sensibility as you will
Break down my slavish vulnerabilities into rapturous illumination
Break me down, shatter me
That you may replenish me with your firm indulgence
And milky seed left stained throughout my entirety
So all that remains is your essence

My naked skin glistens
Entranced with perspiration, yours
In this cabalistic grove we coalesce, consummate
In cannibalistic sanctity we are possessed, one of the other
Equanimity through midsummer madness, together

Be my bridegroom, my master, my god
That my spirit may be awash with your beatific carnality
“Man said, “this is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh;
She shall be called ‘Woman,’ for she was taken out of Man”
I engorge myself on the succulent fruit of first sin, forbidden knowledge
That I may be reborn prurient, as your daughter.


Wet, wet eyes, wet kitten
Triggered in sentimental reaction
Photochemicals firing in response to delicate repression, regression

Rejection, it pursues me
Honed deep within as a calcified babe
Bang! The empty casing falls to the floor
And my heart drops through the marbled tiles with it

I’m fallen, it’s true
Kicked out the opalescent gates of paradise
I don’t belong, who am I deceiving?

Hades is my Father,
His deathly silence and ghastly peace in the parched shrubbery
And the river of oblivion consuming all whom stumble by

I’m entombed within deprivation
Within the shadows of crinkly autumn leaves which fell with me
Enclosed in hopes and dreams
And promises which I know not whether they’ll be

I remember when I met the raven with a broken wing,
Long black hair and forlorn oriental eyes
I wanted to nurse him in my arms and stitch his wound as my own
But I was too preoccupied with my own deformity

And like that deformity I am wasted on recovery
Always in sight but always out of reach
Taunting me, cruelly
How do I deserve amnesty
When I am but a carcass drained by the earth-worms beneath me?

May I find Grace
Wherever She is
That I may be worthy to devour the scraps from her dining table
And find absolution.

Felo De Se

I muse among the maze of my life, only able to ever check behind, but never ahead.

And besides me is a force that taunts, a non-corporeal torment. Ephemeral reminder of my own fragility.

And mirrors surround me. All I see is my own pitiful state. My eyes are sunken, my skin pale. I am in a chronic state of exhaustion and sickness.

Above there is a luminosity but it is so far unreachable. I can only stare and pretend it has meaning, when it has none for my reality.

And the creature besides me covered in wispy thorns, bleeding ichor from his own afflictions and living in perpetual self-torment, he is the tarnished silver glaring back at me. He is my rage.

There is no way to flee such dread, and I have only the ability to make choice based on luck. And fate makes it appear that I never choose the right one.

This ugly apparition in front of me, whom is me, opens his mouth and a silent screech emerges, the sound lost in an agonising inability to express.

Starlight above, why torment me further with reverie and stupor for something that will never be? Stop with your deceptions and fleeting fancies. I am not of you.

I am lone and frigid, on this journey with none but my own distress.

I am sorry, just leave me to curl up beneath the endless bushes and make a nest of morbidity for myself here. I shall eat the dirt and insects and survive from the sap of toxic browned ferns which surround me.

Calcify me, until I am entombed within eternity. This will be my escape, my legacy.

And one day when the tectonic plates have shifted yet again and the sea swallows up the land, I will be washed ashore to some foreign place and be worshipped as one of old, fallen from grace.

And so I will continue on in the impressions of all, not as any real thing living, but something which woefully passed away.


Dwelling on my own insignificance
And submerging myself in the power of inexhaustible self-pity
A spasmodic conversion rips tautly across my chest
Activating lesions I thought were no longer fresh

I crave love like an alcoholic her liquid drug
And too I try to give up this obnoxious compulsion for normalcy
Because the stroke of charred varnish on the brush of my insanity
Extends far too broadly and awakes all so suddenly
When the bane gurgles up through my veins

I feel vacuous at times
And consider if anything will ever fill this desolate quietude within
Tears well up when I remember my own woeful proclivities
And my breast sears open in desolate misery

Why am I horror-struck by half of humanity?
Those jerks had me acting out as an hysterical succubus
Until I was diagnosed as certifiably deranged
Which I tried to forget with my half-yearly bout of amnesia
But instead spiralled deeper into infirmity and acroamatic rape

Can I be delivered? Am I deserving of this life?
Some mournful remnant weeps within
And clenches my internal organs tight
Hoping that if clenched hard enough
No longer will remain the disenchantment of being alive

This is a silent siren of sorrow
Of a young girl maltreated, ostracised, and forsaken
Yet used to it all the same
I’m sorry for the distress I put you through little one
For the suffering of this affliction
This time not physical as a blade that scarred my wrists, hips, and thighs
But instead a total disembodiment of my own self
I’m sure I deceased that night

Or maybe I was already slain
Who can blame that tormented toddler after being projected to the depths of the underworld
In despair and barbarism at the hands of unimaginably vile creatures

Fuck that son of a bitch for what he did
Fuck his existence, fuck his face
May he putrefy and decay in disgrace
This enmity inside is just an endless war to emancipate my voice
To be relieved, to be released

Even when the social worker visited at the tender age of eight
With my eye black and bruised
And welts on my back
Sound was yet not heard
And at twelve when I tried to forewarn the pompous pastor of being nothing more than a child-slave
I was forced to face a vacant wall for weeks on end with hands held ceaselessly upon my head
Oh how my arms weighed
They became insensate

And love was never present
Neither at home nor outside its walls
Despite simplistic narcissistic illusion
Sequestered and forlorn as I was within those four walls
With hands around my neck for wanting to see an insensible male friend
Well, who can blame me for feeling like my very existence is a harrowing affliction to all whom pass me by?
It never goes away
I just learn to live with the debilitating and dishonourable disdain

When will I procure respite?
When will life let up on this foul misfortune?
Was I Jack the Ripper in another aeon?
Am I making up for trespasses long gone?
Or is this just disastrous fate?
How did I offend the gods so?

I want to gather the fractures of myself and affix them anew
With gleaming gold epoxy as in that Japanese adage
And maybe one day my scars will be more precious for it
But sometimes all I feel is the deadly expanse between the porcelain truths
Negative images of a future that no longer subsists

And who knows if this is the only variant of me that is
Goddess I pray so, because the aberrant recourse presses against me from all sides
Has the cosmos really given up on me?
Prithee, I petition for a token, for confidence and a piety I never once felt
Let me anticipate again, even though I am near now self-erased
May my affection feel again
Shielded, insulated, impregnable
Without fright nor strain

The excruciating egg shells lie scattered now far beyond the shadows
Still their dusty remains harrow deep within the soles of my feet
And disturb me every time I take a step forward with a weary wheeze

Will you come and sup this tainted breath out my lungs with a reverent tongue?
Is there really hope? So long have I been dragged through mud and mire;
I am necessitous for repose of my cynical soul
So, pray, let it be.
It must be.


Princess rose
Sparkles and glitter
Within a world concealed to the norm

Lacy black suspenders
Strapped to my plump derriere
With thigh highs and titillating bared skin

Two parts of me yet unexplored
The virginal maid and the seductive whore
Are you yet another apparition of my core?

Daddy, I love you
An utterance that never once passed my deadened lips
Until this tender age of five and twenty

Screw the world and its abandoning me
Fuck the system that should’ve protected me
Now I am a little Lolita once more

No more downcast but gently adored
With pastel colours, fluffy blankets, and the sucking of my thumb
For solace in re-imagining of the past

Yeah it may be queer
But the rules are fluid
Like gravity’s magic keeps us upright despite being upended

So here’s to the pretty meadows of my heart
And the fortunate guardian within
My cunning champion of healing.