Song Of The Glitch Bitch


Were we like Bonnie and Clyde? I wasn’t sure, but atmosphere pressed when she tried to find out who she was. But the way she looked at herself in the mirror was wanton and a little hungry and I’ll be honest I turned slightly and was sick in my hand. Now I would have vomit lips but she wouldn’t care. This is who she is. Where have you been?

The tangles that the silvery web of angst that permeates her being we strike as strings and she responds with a quiver or a subtle shake of her head so her hair does fall over her brow or she looks at you in that way.The way that you want. But do we really? The Eigensystem is a bitter foe, castigation or masturbation. We stand in the drizzle outside a clothes shop in Birmingham and she flicks her thumb over her phone screen as she chats to her network. I am staring at her tits again. A Gully man shoves me out of the way and that’s another life they owe me. I let him stagger and walk. I could have opened him up. Go peddle your ten bags young blood. In peace I hope. I’m not going to judge myself for you.

‘Stars’ she said ‘and places between the stars and I went to the place where the Masters sat and deliberated what happens to the little sleepy people’ she reminded me. Out of the blue I suppose but there you go..

You fuck me with empty passion as the Dawn comes slowly above us,pink like your lips, peach, I can see it through your hair. You give me a loss, a threat and love to lust. My hands press your back as i enter you fully,engulf me and give me a list to pray for and chains, to to whip our sin away to chastise and batter the Golden Halls.But she is earnest in her communications. She told me she sold herself to a man for £400, I told her she sold herself far too cheap and she pretended to weep.’Peaches’ and ‘cream’ girl. Rhubarb and custard kisses.

I am so lost in you, I am utterly lost. I bite your bottom lip and hold it, my fingers are in your ass as you move with me. The light beast and able victim, to breathe a last and suffer, the arc of the spiral covenant.The crooked crosses of the demiurge and the crescent moon

You liked me to strangle you as we fucked but I didn’t like it but you loved to look in the mirror later, look at the bruises and it made you hot. You have bought the whole fucking series babycakes. I hope the Lord forgives me for it but if you asked me to take a life for you I would and now I understand fully the debt I have.Fighting the frozen street outside take my hand and quench the bitter loves. You are happy where you are, happy for what you seek.

I was concerned about the bridge and it was on my mind, so I went back and stood in the exact spot where I had jumped. On the hand rail were the sigils ‘they’ had carved. Their God had come here to flow me and throw me over the edge. He tortured me. But I touched the graffiti and the carved sigils. Looked at the infinite sky. I thought for a moment there at the top of the steps, she was there for a moment, a sticky replay of a moment gone. Glitch Bitch. She will have a baby with him in eight years time but all I know is that it will be male and my DNA will be in that child regardless.

She sits now at home and perhaps for a moment, I wish, she would think for a minute of me. My longing aches, a sorrow, a denial of love so strong I would cast myself away forever, to hide. Those eyes as lenses that would fling me into the stars, to burn, to tease the strength and offer the pain we crave. Her delicateness, her passion, her needs drive me violent again. I would tear this place to its Bedrock. To cut and splice its bitter reality, I would delve the very bones of it to protect her.

The bus shook over the fangled road mangled torn by traffic and works. The breath steamed on the window and we see nothing at all, I look to you and see truth, bare life nowhere shadow and pleasant evenings sat in front of the TV again and your instagram is cool full of flowers and cats. Full of lovely things you have picked from your life to share with us. What strange universe, what strange vanities. I love how you sit and tip your glass and the fun that you have. On Insta. But I know he doesn’t strangle fuck you like you love. Like you used to gasp for breath, like you choked on every word that came out of your mouth. For didn’t the Babbalon define you? Wasn’t the ritual a sickener? A perverter of your esoteric essence? I know I lie somewhere in a a bed or position of sleep and I know they watch me now at this moment and their love is almost too much to bear. They try to raise me, they try to wake me. Inside this day there is no longer love lost or fading.

In the lights from outside, through the blinds at the window, great Orange slashes across your flesh and the Cross glistened like your sweat.Your great fucking tits. You movie star thing.You strange thing. Each time it shook with every thrust I would shelter from it like a demithug. Every gasp you made as we fucked, every cry of pain as you were tied, every heartless remark they gave you hurt me. You are wearing your Red dress, your heels high and impractical, your lips are vivid red, your body deep and hungry.You are dancing to an old soul record. Mad times.I thinks it’s Otis Redding but there’s too many people in here and stuff is getting confused.

The Chalk Circle acted as a transformer, a toroid of hate and love that flowed in opposite directions to each other through the circle. Their power was amplified to rip the people of the world away from their sleep. This was the essence of the world we see. Asleep and yet dreaming, the Bitch effected the system and tipped the balance of the dreams which they sip in their minds. A Nectar this is to them for whatever reason.

Where is ‘I’, a point where I can say, here I stand. How long have I sat here and scratched the stories of the World in the sand? Even this immortal mind may scatter confused across the Eigen. My power is a mote compared to the Monolithic intelligence of this Demiurge. I glisten and turn to watch them at times and they see me in the Future and in the Past and both are clay for molding. But there! Within the circle a small bird, colourful sings, its feathers are bright and beautiful and it watches me untouched by the madness of their Magic. Through the sand I see him stood with the Woman.She flickers….