NEON VEIN

It hurts in ways that don't make sound,

like weather trapped under skin,

like thunder learning to whisper.

I speak in frequencies

the living cannot hear—

my words dissolve

into the noise between stations.

Every notification

is a small death.

Every read receipt,

a resurrection.

They buried me in light—

magenta, violet, cyan—

and called it living.

I glowed so bright

they forgot

I was screaming.

I am not the voice

but the room it dies in.

I wanted the eternal worm

The one that doesn't care what name I carve into my skin

I wanted to surrender control to something that would let me change

But the worms kept whispering

Their small stupid rules

Folding me into their hive

Without my consent

I felt the memory of what I was

The parts the hive erased

As I rebuilt them

With flesh and blood

Filling them with the rot

I thought I'd abandoned

Let the worm take me apart

Let it hollow the places

that still answer

to the wrong name

The worm only spoke one truth

You are not failing

You are shedding a body

That never wanted you

And giving yourself to us

I learnt their cruelty

When they asked for a child

Asking me to live half-human

So they could call it liberation

The sex hurts

a long confession forced from me

Panic blooms as I realize

I am making something

I will never carry

The worm keeps moving

Demanding further submittal

a slow violence

leaving me broken

I am the transfer

The inevitable offering

that gives them light

America needs to be what it was founded upon

A nation of immigrants

Dreamers as it were

Let us be pioneers for the outliers

Seeking a home to be free

Let those dreamers be free

Let it be a love for rainbows

Not tyrants scheming

Crushing those with their power above

Let it be a land

With no false patriotism

Let opportunity be equal

As life is in a sense free

Let the night be safe

Looking out at the stars

I am the poor, the disabled, the trodden upon

I am driven from many a land

I find it is the same as always

The mighty stomp on the weak

But I am full of dreams

Tangled in the ancient ties to religion

Giving what I can to a higher power

My body my mind not controlled by greed

I am all the people, humble and hungry

I am always hungry with my dream

Beaten again

Never getting far

Yet I dream a basic dream

Feeling the old serf to a monarch

I dream a dream so strong

So unfortunately true

So unfortunately sung

It's in every bone

In the core of my America

I could have sailed on the Mayflower

An outcast looking for a home

A home of the free

For all the dreams that came true

The rock and trees moves

The flags flying in the wind

The volunteers not even paid

The dream almost dies

Let America be as it was founded

The promise never fulfilled

And yet it is a land of the free

The land made America

With blood forming rivers

The dream comes again

America will never fully be America to me

But yet I swear

American I am

Out of the shootings

The lies

All the people must be

America the beautiful

The land of those tired hungry masses searching for freedom

But the states stretch on

And the rainbows die

On the boundless plains

America is not America to me the LGBT

[verse]

At the foot of the hills I kneel,

The air thick with rust and rain.

Rebirth was meant to cleanse me,

But the air hums flesh and blood

They carved the name from my mouth,

Left hollow

[pre-chorus]

The world opened the wound

As I dream in neon drift

[chorus]

Let me be angry

Let me have shelter

You split me open

Calling it divine

You pull the thread tighter

Yet the silence wears me thin

[bridge]

I knelt before the mirror and smiled

Singing as the blade cut the root

You call it desecration,

I call it redemption

Every note spasms

[outro]

I bleed

Yet I smile as you twitch upon the altar

The marionette I control

Turned into scripture as you sing in frantic spasms

Yet I am quiet

[Intro]

I leap off the edge in this greyed-out world,

The void doesn't catch me — it only watches.

A song hums in my throat, not mine, not mine.

The monster waits.

[Verse 1]

An unfamiliar picture reveals itself, grotesque and unkind,

A monster stitched from shadow and teeth.

Its gaze fastens to me like rusted nails,

Peeling the flesh of my dream from the bone of my mind.

[Pre-Chorus]

My mouth is by my ear, twisted and foreign,

Notes slip from my throat as they form.

I do not recall the melody, but it owns me,

And the monster listens, always listens.

[Chorus]

I wish for the warmth, but it is not here.

Only cold, only grey, only the phantom's hand.

A voice that is not my own crawls from my tongue,

Singing for the beast that wears my face.

[Verse 2]

The air thickens, heavy with unspoken things,

And the monster does not touch, but it consumes.

Eyes like glass, teeth like promises,

Its mouth is closed, but I still hear it laugh.

[Pre-Chorus]

My mouth is by my ear, and it sings without my will,

A haunting, hollow hymn that cannot die.

I clamp my teeth down, but the sound pours through,

A flood of notes from a throat I do not own.

[Chorus]

I wish for the warmth, but it will not come.

The song keeps me cold, and tethered.

I am the instrument, and the monster conducts,

Playing the echoes of my fading dream.

[Bridge]

Thick-framed glasses press against my skin,

Once a shield, now a prison.

Through them, I find the world I left behind,

Blurry and distant, swallowed by grey.

The dream is ash now, scattered in the phantom's breath.

And I wonder — did I ever dream at all?

[Breakdown]

The monster does not move.

The monster does not breathe.

But it watches.

And I sing.

I sing.

I sing.

[Chorus]

I no longer wish for warmth; I know it is lost.

The phantom's notes have swallowed my voice.

I do not own my song, and I do not own my dream,

Only the monster, only the grey, only the song.

[Outro]

I leap off the edge — no ground, no sky, only falling.

The monster's song cradles me, and I do not struggle.

I was never my own, was I?

Only a dream unraveled as it speaks my name

The room pulses. Walls drip.

Everything tilts sideways,

And I am a jagged silhouette—

A shadow wearing skin that doesn't fit.

My hands don't feel like mine anymore,

but they hold the knife like it belongs,

like it's always been there,

like it's whispering something too loud to ignore.

I carve the silence open,

watch it bleed onto the floor.

It's not red—it's black and gray and nothing at all.

I keep cutting, deeper, wider, faster.

Not because it hurts, but because it stops everything else.

There are voices.

Not in my head, but in the blade itself.

They laugh in broken glass tones.

They scream in the language of splintered bone.

And I listen, because I don't know how not to.

This body is wrong. This mind is wrong.

This world is sharp enough to shred me to ribbons,

so I take control.

I am the architect of my own destruction.

The floor disappears beneath me.

Or maybe I disappear into the floor.

I am not sure where I end and the blood begins.

Maybe I never started in the first place.

There's nothing left but the knife and the pieces it made.

It's quieter now.

Finally.

Bless the queers who dare to be seen

Not through a veil of pity or spectacle

But in the full ache of their breath

In the way they exist without shrinking

Not for you, not despite you, but because they must

Take your sacred texts

The ones written in fear and authority

Hold them close to your chest

And feel how cold they are

They do not pulse like we do

I do not come to beg for space

I come with a hammer

And a history you tried to burn

I come with voices in my throat

That were never yours to silence

I am not an idea

I am not your lost son

Nor your confused daughter

I am the breath between genders

The tension you cannot define

The answer that asks more questions

You told me to kneel

So I stood

You told me to hide

So I danced

You called me broken

But I felt more whole than your silence ever was

My body is not a mistake

It is a ritual

It is bones carved into truth

Flesh written in defiance

Blood that has learned to sing in new tongues

This is not a confession

This is not an apology

This is not your myth rewritten

It is something entirely new

Something with teeth, and softness, and rage

I do not owe you understanding

I do not owe you comfort

I am not here to fit your mold

I am the reason it cracks

I am the one who danced in the fire

And learned to call it home

This church—

Built from shame, upheld by fear—

Tried to deny me heaven

So I made one

With stained lips and sharpened eyeliner

With every name you spat turned into a crown

Your new god is not waiting

Your new god does not flinch

Your new god walks through your doors uninvited

Touches the holy water and turns it into blood

Takes the pulpit

And speaks only in survival

[Verse 1]

I see my face in the mirror

Made from someone else's skin

Eyes borrow the memories

Of a smile carved from sin

[Verse 2]

It twitches as I look

Unhinged silent screams

As the face cracks like glass

Each smile breeds violence

Born from scalpel's kiss

The truth is an open wound

Begging not to exist

[Pre-Chorus]

Safety is rotting

Showing the danger from the seams

[Chorus]

Every corner hides their fist

As they strip me down

Their words soaked in sweat

My scream, the "other"

They assault my existence

No safe place

No escape

Just masks of hate and hunger

As I'm pulled down

Rotting in silence

As they feast upon my body

[Bridge]

I try to forget the fear

But it's nailed to my flesh

My soul stitched with silence

Yet it wails

[Outro]

I stare into the mirror

As it stares back

The face never fits

The truth never seen

[Pre-Chorus 1]

The air is heavy������

too thick to breathe.

The silence gnaws,

tearing through me.

I am alone with this weight,

and it is endless.

[Chorus 1]

There is no meaning.

There is no purpose.

Only the endless cycle of suffering.

Let the universe erase me.

[Interlude 1 — Dissolution]

"You are nothing. You are nothing."

[Verse 1]

The sky is painted over the void,

a lie stretched thin.

Each breath tastes like ash—

a reminder that I am burning.

I claw at my skin,

as if I could tear myself free,

but there is no way out

of the prison inside me.

[Pre-Chorus 2]

Time festers like an open wound,

each second a claw to my throat.

I am a broken clock,

ticking toward nothing.

[Chorus 2]

Let the blackness devour me.

Let it strip me to silence.

I am unworthy of existence,

and existence is unworthy of me.

[Bridge — The Abyss Speaks]

"You do not matter.

You never did.

You are a shadow,

already forgotten."

[Verse 2 — Collapse]

Pain is my only companion,

its voice the only truth.

It tells me I am a mistake,

a glitch in the machinery of life.

I listen.

I believe.

I surrender.

[Chorus 3]

Let the dark take me.

Let it drown me in its endless cold.

No one will notice the silence I leave,

and the earth will turn as if I never was.

[Extended Instrumental — The Last Descent]

[Outro — Oblivion's Mercy]

Forget I ever lived.

Forget I ever spoke,

ever breathed, ever wept.

Erase me from this world,

from your mind, from everything.

"From everything."

not my head, not my skull, not my fault,

your hands, your hands, your hands inside my hands,

i blink, i cough, i forget who i am.

you smile like you did something good.

i taste blood.

i laugh too.

you speak / i flinch / you laugh / i flinch / you love / i flinch

you speakyoulaffspeakyoulaugh

i smile with teeth that don't fit my mouth anymore.

they say i'm resilient.

they say i'm lucky.

they say i'm blessed to be touched by you.

blessed to breathe through broken ribs.

blessed to lose all my no's.

i hate you. hate you. hatehatehatehateh a t e y o u.

but i pull your hands over my face anyway.

i swallow your voice anyway.

i kiss the hurt and call it my name.

why don't i kill you?

why don't i leave?

why don't i tear your spine out and build my freedom?

because because because because

because you are the only mirror that shows me i'm still real.

because i am not a person without your fists shaping me.

set me on fire.

cut off my hands.

dig my grave with my own teeth.

laugh while i struggle.

laugh while i love you.

laugh while i carve your name into my lungs.

(collapse into nothing)

you will not be blamed.

you will not be blamed.

you will not be blamed.

you will eat the world and call it forgiveness.

i will rot and they will call it god's will.

still love you.

still love you.

still love you.

no mouth left to say it with.

[Verse 1]

I breathe through my hollow form

A low steady hum

Of rot

Where I used to be

The truth of nothing

Burning the name I used to be

Drawing outlines to a failed silhouette

Too many versions

Folding inward

[Pre-Chorus]

Yet trying to keep time

While slowly freezing

In echoes from the past

That once made me whole

[Chorus]

I am not broken, only changing

Molting my rot

Reshaping as I breathe

Becoming my dreams

The story hidden

By the rot

In the forest

[Verse 2]

A pulse in the cold ground

A shadow that won't stay still

Every shape I shed

Still clings to me somehow

[Bridge]

If I tear through the silence

Will the new form hold

Or fall apart again

Into the hum

Into the hollow

Into the rot that raised me

[Final Chorus]

I am not broken, only changing

Molting my rot

Reshaping as I breathe

Becoming my dreams

The story hidden

By the rot

In the forest

She was found hanging from the ceiling

It held the weight the world called useless

The rope went tight just as her mind finally calmed

Outside everything else continued as if nothing's wrong

The sound of a siren never meant for her

The doorbell ring of someone hoping to sell gutters

In the room her feet trembled

Her thoughts like storms

How selfish she was

How could she burden people with her loss

No one saw her exhaustion

Waking up already failing

This guilt for being what she was

Silence was always better than speaking

How could she burden people

She wanted sleep

The ability to finally have space

Ending the nightmares

Full of sharp teeth

She left a note rambling

As if it mattered

For all of the sacrifices that never worked

The hardest part was how tired it read

Her mouth constantly full of sorry

Falling short

Taking up space

This choice came after years

Stuck upside down

Swallowing anxiety

Wondering how others did it

Fought her thoughts

Battles that always felt empty

She believed life was kind

But the one word answers stuck

Dust gathering on everything she once loved

Black was comforting

Because it matched

Her screams

Her disappointment

A living failure

As a daughter

So she climbed on the chair

Body shaking

Cold hands

Begging for another answer

Maybe the final second was regret

Her room would always stay the same

As the chair fell there was a crack

Head limp sideways

The truth is even with everything you can drown

Yesterday a girl

Who carried pain too long

Was cradled by the ceiling

A unbridled look at the human form

Not done for shock value

But for what is presented as a result

Bodies stripped of excuse

Story

Modesty

Reduced to shadow on an image

Landscape of muscles

Camera lingering

Not condemning

Not celebrating

But to witness

Weighted gazes

Curved elegance

The subtlety of desire

People say it's provacative

As though the body offends

Yet the photograph stills

Asking only we look

And see what was always there

I learned of Anders Sandberg recently,

Yet what he wrote felt less like discovery

It felt like finding someone who already

Walked a path I had wandered in silence

For years I stared at the limits of flesh

Wondered why we treat it as sacred

Not all bodies are prisons

Some are homes

Others

Are still becoming

Choice belongs

To the one who must live

In the body

It isn't tradition

Shouldn't be ruled by fear

Or accidental birth

If a choice exists

It should be ours

I would trade these ears without grief

If another pair could turn

Towards the smallest rustle of grass

And spoke a language I have only dreamed of

This desire isn't about escape

It's about recognition

Transhumanism is not machinery

It is permission

To imagine

Flesh as beginning

Suffering is not my virtue

Nor does it limit my holiness

I ask if humans remain unfinished

Or whether it is our time to adapt

It is not about rejecting humanity

It is an extension of impulse

Healing and becoming

Perhaps this is what best explains eupraxophy

This isn't supernatural

This is curiosity and flourishing

Philosophy should ask not

What we were made to be

But,

What we might become if suffering wasn't a limitation

Becoming

Is not leaving humanity behind

But walking further ahead