wet casket

 i was born on a hot summer day,

maybe 7 years ago your time.

a failure stemming from self proclaimed confidence,

a desire for profit,

a need to feel needed,

but lacking some knowledge and idea

on the matter, so in forth created me.

 

Later i would have far flung colonies,

replicated my being and inhabited other 

places,

i would travel,

throb in my hidden way of spreading,

i would immerse myself,

become the after after for you.

 

as i grew i made friends,

i spawned a universe.

the layers of reality are deep, perhaps infinite,

i exist as a layer much slower, far less presently aware in motion. I creep i guess.

 

my cohabitants as always give me up,

they leave the space to seek

new things.

i hope i will but dont have any real pressing mission.

mostly i am, and because of this am so connected.

 

im kind of like an atom.

I mean i am and dont know why,

but somehow feel we are the same,

just like matter building blocks.

get what im trying to say?

 

When i was found, and ripped from

my origin, the cool sting of air and 

strangulated. i like the water

we vibe like that.

 

I felt all pain, disemboweled but not

really too. I already kinda weirdly not so much but dead. I grow its true, but only to spread the word,

find my fellow after lifers,

I am 

 MOLD!

 

Hug me 

touch me, breathe me in.

Darkness bind me, wet gloomy hidden rooms,

last of all the squatters

reminder of the worms

The aged wisdom of

All to come.