We are the rulers of all we see, because our eyes created everything.
Because the mind rules the body,
the only thing one can own is their self .

Looking through Future's window
will only bring visions of despair.

Our hearts reject natural beauty for manufactured looks.

Empathetic people are the one's who get thrown under the bus
when traffic gets bad.
Fighting back hurts too much.
I couldn't replicate the pain you put me through, and throw it in your face.
Recovery prepares you for the battle,
to be the bigger person.

When you left earth,
you left me behind.
You said the ship only had one more seat
and my rocket will come when I'm ready.
I told you I didn't want this hell.
You apologized and walked into the bright white lights.
In old age,
I'll ask you to keep your apologies.
Because I have enough of my own.

Another relapse.
October nights will always be cold with out your fire.
Living harmoniously through all the pain will only bring you recovery.

She's got a cocktail personality and I need a quick fix.
I'll be at the bar.

An idea can save a life.
If everybody could get together to think of ways to mend what has been broken.
The world would be saved.
Feed your minds and let your thoughts grow.
You'll be the bigger person in the long run.

Goth Glam was a 2010 daydream.

I’ve detached myself
So far
From everything
That
When I got there
I realized,
I was staring at the very
edge of nothing
In the
Darkest parts of
Outer-mental space.
Space
Is
Cold&Empty;
So I am.
Here’s to finding
Light in darkness.
Until then,
I’ll be
Swimming in the slimming,
Black Sea.

I can keep my balance
on your tight rope of insecurity.
You say you're a two.
but baby, you shine like an eleven.
Covering my eyes with optimism,
cause all I see is pessimism.
Sometimes it’s better to be blind
then to see at all.
Black and white.
Day and night.
It’s too bad the color wheel
doesn't have a neutral shade.
I can't take sides anymore.
because both parties are wrong.

Oh Baby, you've done.

Captured my essence
and made me think
that
I
exist.

For a
slit-wrist second
in "time".

Until them sparks
make fire.
& take you up in his flames.

A bad dream.
Filmed right between my
starry-eyes.

Soul Photography,
uhhhh
Flashbacks of missin' you.

Until then,
I will be all black
& nothing more.

Than a wannabe-writer in the
mourning.
And a secret-screamer at night.

Insomnia.
If only,
my fridge,
was filled with
beer and a couple
cans of food.
Drinking,
till
dawn.
Drowning out
the dark until
I see the sun
rise,
then I can
throw up
& pass out.

When I was little,
my parents used
to give me
spoonfuls of liquid dawn
and
chunks of bar soap.
To eat
when I swore.
Until I broke
wore them down,
to my court
and ruled
that
I will drink
dawn by the bottle
if I have to,
to keep my
words unfiltered.
True Love.
Drink Dawn & Die.

Watch my mouth?
Wash my mouth out?
With soap?
The ****?
Kiss my ***.
I get belligerent
when I'm drunk.
I'll go cry
behind a pine tree
for a couple hours now.

I'm living
The All-American,
Poor-White Trash Dream
& the world is my dumpster

My eyes, will rain
tear-drops
of tequila.
When I think
about you too.

They'll run down my
dead-white,-
porcelain-poltergeist
cheeks.
To the crack,
tip of my
toilet-talk-tongue.

It should just be bitten off
& Bleeding, by itself.

Darling, you haven't been the same since you switched your scripts.

Baby,
Our hearts are soon to
be
hollowed out & holey.
Half-way gone.
Half-way to the moon-hearts.
This is not permanent but we're forever.

But the moon was full the night before.
So it has been nothing but fading with the sorrow.
&
Darling, I'll be howling at the half moon for you.
</3

When everything
is said and
done.

Gone
Faded.
Jaded.
Decayed.
Dead.  
Wish.
I was.

Just remember,
I didn't chose to
be brought into this.

You just forced me through the
crack-hole.
&
Yanked me out nine months later.

Sometimes, I hate both of you for this.

Cheer up
peanut,
butter cup.
Candy is
supposed to be
sweet.
Not bitter.
Unless you're
trying
to be
the dark side of the chocolate bar.
But no matter,
what ever
your taste is.
I'll
always come
back for
more.
Looks like
lust has me
ummm
uhhh
uhh-****-ted.
Until the
Dentist tells
me otherwise.

Love is a feeling.
Feeling is electric.
We are feeling in skin.
Electricity running
through
a
circuit board
switch to switch
***** to *****.
Break the circuit
Break the cycle.
It's true that the
electricity continues to exist.
It's also true that it is existing in another way.

While I'm still here
screaming,
"someone save me from myself".

As I keep on run-run-running
a blood-red black.
Race-line, to the finish.
To hallways that need sounds.

In homes.
That you have had
to have been in at least,
once before.

Till, the next time.
I'm be swimmin'
until I can lie
about this,
no more.

But I think.
That the last line,
will
hurt
the most.
</3

Well ****.
It's like I fell into this web.
A ****** and crawled out of it
a ****.
Funny how things go.

Let's flip this table.
Lemme just flip you off real quick.  
Cause this time,
I'll be walking right
out
the web.

Walking all over your little
E-Go
punch yourself in the ****.
Maybe,
you can feel something real.
For once.

lol.

You can't fool
me anymore.
I invented twank trickery.
*****, you can just call me
Bandit now.

When you're normally
an idiot magnet,
Bur for some
malfunctional blessing
you're attracting something
that is positive
ditch the downers
and go get high.
Turkey tastes
better cold,
I like to quit cold turkey.
I just worked a nine hour shift too.
The human mind
is such a powerful tool.
I don't understand why people are so stupid.
We all have minds, right?

Running North,
aura lights
are taking me home.

Six feet underground.
Pine box mannequins,
all done up dead and pretty.

Morticians's pride,
a job well done.

Such a shame,
it was a closed-casket
viewing.

Sup Chuck?
Up Chuck?
What the ****?
Chuck?
Lemme sip your
wood-chuck.

Lol

Don't tweak out
just because
they're tweaking with your
wires.

Keep your calm
&
give your fuse
a blow-out
*******.
I am
Better off alone anyways.

Your common sense.....

Yeah, it
knows no logic.

Guess,
I'm just talkin' to a big,
boring brick-wall.
Again.

I'd rather be talking to myself, honestly.

I'm not
Surprised,
no-no-no-no

Disappointed?
You betchya.

But what can one expect.

When we live inside
one giant
circular-cynical-cycle.

Oh High,
I'm Bandit.

& I'd like to
Thank you,
for paying me lip service.

I'm forever in (your) debt.

I'm just gunna
hula-hoop
right through
your
loop
hole.

I'm dating
Debbie Downer
but I'm bi-curious
for Positive Paul.

I'm hungry.
I'm pissy.

Debbie, get back to
Betty.
& Bake me a cake.
I'll go hang out
with
Paul and his country ****.
Whoops,
I mean
Crock.

You can just keep *******'
in the kitchen.

High Times In Harvey Taylor!
Part IV: Business Talk.

Let's talk business.
I'm eight months pregnant
with a plan to
redistribute the wealth.
Yo,
any chance you got
an extra towel,
in case my water breaks
early?
I'm gunna work the world better than a *** does, on her own street.
Prostitution
, Conclusion.
I didn't get ****** from kissing strangers, I got em' from kissing you. Didn't realize,
I was in lust with the tri country area's only *******.
My bad for trying.

I'm just trying not to feel the need
to ***** myself.

Over & Out
Of the
Poor White Trash Society
class-classy.

I am very much so.
Not my fault.
You think Imma
*****-worth-less
than you.

That's the
Price of being Pretty.

Some "people" are just praying .

That you will play pretend *******
with them,
for the right price.
Of course,
money is alway$ the motive.

So he'll
Flash dat Ca$h
& Dem bling-bling-ring$.

Prayin' he can afford to
Pay, people to pitty play up
on him.

But I don't play or put out.
Anymore.

I am not a *******.
$ can't win me over.

You can find someone else
to drink with
or
experiment with.
Whatever you call it.

I'm just going to coast
it riding as the

6th wheel.

Till hell freezes over.
Then can I,
crash,
burn,
& fall
all the way down
the

6th route

till I hit
the

6th exit.

That will
Bring
me
Back into your arms, again.

When the fire burns out
there will be nothing but
a foggy forgiveness.

From me
to you.

Till then,
watch your back.

Until then,
I'm going to keep driving
in the
darkness
until the sun rises
and brings me light.
So
I can see
through all this
bull-****
traffic.
So I can find
my way home.
Either way,
one day.
Someday,
that's a nice thought.
It's going to happen.

Well since you gave me the idea,
I'll just to my alley of worship
to sing hymns of ecstasy and ****,
to glorify the power of  my all mighty drug dealer,
with the rest of my burnt out, strung out congregation.
A few beers doesn't make you an alcoholic
it means you were thirsty.
Before you read the rlab report.
Do you mind if I make a drink?
I wasn't going to show,
but our blood has bound us to the familial microscope.
Blacking out the ******* with the facts that proove you wrong dancing on the tip of tougne.
Your wasting my time.
I'll be the gentleman and I'll hold the door open for you.
Now walk right out of my life.

Narcissists have fans.
Poets
have
passionate
friends.
Welcome to the Love Cult.
The Sun
that is the center
of Bandit's universe.
Space is cold
and dark and lonely.
But together,
we're going to make
a
bright
& beautiful world.

Quicksand
and those sketchy  
day dreams.
Are
dragging me
down river.

To Go.

Drunk dancing
at the
Devil's beat.

</3
As I lay,
here.

Drowning,
in all your liquid lies.
With my right hand
above water.

Of course.

Every fallen angel,
sides down the slippery
stripped-strip,
strippers pole.

Onto,
darker day dreams
of swimming,
singing
&
swing-dancing
with Lucy.

Tap-tap-tap
dancing
with the
Fairy Master
Lucipher,
himself.

Sometimes people are just misunderstood.

He asked me if....
"It hurt, when I fell from Heaven".

I replied with a quick.
" It was painless
until my face
cracked open
on the bottom...
Of the brimstone
under-world.
They call me Fallen Angel, down there."

jkiddy.

Now pull the trigger,
*****.
Or I'll drink punch & die.

I want to see,
the guy with
the
:) eyes
again.

Down under the Devil's balcony.
We'll be on fire.
Together.
Here's to dancing,
in my guilty inferno.

For an Angel,
you're pretty. Hot.

If I didn't live in such
a
small town.
I'd be a really big ****.

You don't need a piece of
paper to prove your
intelligence.
A blank check
will never be
worth as much as You.

Today wasn't so great
but
Tomorrow,
fate
could come and change your life.

If you think that the world is out to **** you of everything they can possibly take and you've had enough. Well, welcome to the Love Cult. My friends call me Jacob, but I go by Bandit.
Be a dream catcher
and catch your dreams.
Don't ever give up cause **** get's better.

Staring out at all that lies before me.
Trapped within a prison.
I look, to see your life blossoming like a beautiful rose.
I'd be living too.
If I wasn't freezing to death.

As the long forgotten Sun kisses my skin, with his warmth.
I can feel my heart shed a few tears.
In light, of the feelings I once had for you.

Sick-sick-sick.
&
I'm staring
all starry-eyed
at my body.

From across the bathroom floor,
dissipating.

Disappearing into
the thick-thick
forget-me- not
fog.

Lost in looks
I use to call my own.
But now my conscious is looking
at my-itself in the mirror.

I see shadows.
Stalk-sulk-lurking,
behind me.
Too.

I'm just trying to
shed some light on the
situation.

So,
maybe,
they'll just leave me alone.

To the
Easy-******
speedy
speed-balling'
speed-demon
drivers.

There­ isn't a
circuit
that will
race you
to my bed room.
I don't endorse
NASCAR.

But if you
can drive
twenty five.
There is
a road
that will
get you there
eventually.

Another line off
a ****** broken
toilet-seat.

&
The guy with
smiley face eyes
is done-gone
getting himself,
into another
fist-fight.

With all the other
crack-cats.
For the biggest bag-o-rocks,
from the litter box.

Living the White-Trash dream.
Is just a day-dream
throw-away...

"bang.bang".

Hate flows,
free through her blood.
Infecting every *****.

First,
with her heart,
then her brain.

A deranged, heartless *****,
with all the power.

Succubi.
Queen of Bloodshed.
Harlot of Satan.

Swing dancing murderers
& ball-room assassins.
Seek her out, on
the dance floor.
To, get a chance to Swing Dance with Lucy, herself.

Good men will fall down to evil.
Slowly dancing and stabbing  
pretty, young girls.
Under the noses of their wives.

To save their,
lost souls
from the belly of the beast.

Covered in their blood, sweat & glitter,
the Party Princesses are slain
by the Princes of Poverty.
Cause they weren't getting pity ******.

If God,
really wanted
his creations to
be hidden,
in the closet.
He wouldn't have
put a door **** on
the closet door,
in the first place.
Open up your mind and,
construct your
confidence,
turn the
free-life,
door ****.
&
Say a prayer
Then strut the **** out
of the darkness
into
the technicolor love
rainbow.
I may be a
prissy princess
but underneath
all the
gay, goth, glam
are big
******* steel *****.
**** me,
I'm easy.
Just kidding,
I'm infamous.
8==D
god <3's gay people.

religions h8.
not god.
god = love

So tell me,
cause I'm sick of
wondering.

Are
you
ready
to wake-up
alive?

Or am I going to
eating your cake
alone.

For the fifth year
running.
Anyways.

Happy Birthday.
Queenie Belle,
you'd be 46 this year.

Myths:

It's not dope, it's chronic so chill out
and I'll pass you that blunt.
Better off high on positivity.
Than down from negativity.
Sulking in all of my
strung out,
burnt out,
and miserable glory.
It's not dope, it's chronic so chill out
and I'll pass you that blunt.

If you can drive in reverse, you'll pass the test.
Just remember to keep one eye on the mirror
and the other one on your back.
The road is full of black holes
that only wish to break you down
in a dark, depressing ditch.

People keep calling me the anti-christ.
Today, I'm flattered.
Tomorrow, I could be flattened by their stones.
I'm trying to scare  away the stupid.
It's not working.
Cause I'm an idiot magnet.

The black sheep is always first to get
exiled from the flock.
You'll find more life in a cemetery than you will in my heart.
Cause magic isn't microwavable it has to cook the real way.

They say time is always working against us.
But what they really don't know is that time doesn't exist.
We will always be here.


Rapid cycling mood rings:

I used to control my mouth
until I cracked under the pressure
and bit my tongue off.
The world is out to **** me of everything they can take.
I got my dress shoes on and my wallets loaded with condoms.
I know what is inevitable and what is avoidable.
**** get's better.

Cause you're way
2
cute,
2
cry
over a

    Big-***.
    Stupid-***.
    Lazy-***
    Broke-***

air-head.

That somehow
caught you in a web.
& made you
uhhh-****-ted.

Get it?
Get it?
Got it!
Good.

Be like the
Brookie Monster
and know
U R A
rare ruby.

That should be
hidden,
at the bottom
of the
cookie jar.
SO no one can steal your beauty.
For their own *****-gain.

Sleeping alone *****.
But nothings worse
than waking up next
to
a
skanky/******
Lust-****.

Imma keep
screamin' at these
brick walls.

All day.
Every day.

While my clock is still
    tick
    tick
    tick-ing
.
I will be
all black
&
nothing more.

Until they
bury me underneath
the fresh black
****.
Soiled,
wet dreams
&
nightmare realities.

Of a life
that starts
later.

For now,
I am
only
One wing out the cocoon.

I need to
forget
about
Frictions' force
and
Gravity's grip.
So,
I can
eliminate
all limitations.
To
One day,
will up,
a
will power
strong enough,
tough enough,
to
fly away
from fear.
In a
fast
free-fall.
Hopefully
I'll
fill
the
World's
empty wine glass.
If I fail,
I'll still
raise my glass
to drink the punch
and die
trying.

Making life-decisions
is like making shots.

You put,
1 count *****.
2 counts ***.
&
3 counts tequila.
In your mental mixer.

Then you shake it up.
Pour it out.
Chug it down ,
bite the lemon,
break the glass
and hit the
FLOOR.

Get belligerent & stupid.
Stumble through the
black alley emptiness
we call the world,

Smack a *****,
if he is trying to stop
you from going where
you're going.


You're going to make it,
even if you just end up in rehab.
You still wound up leaving
your home town.

Life is like drinking & driving.
You know you shouldn't.
But you
gotta do
what you
gotta do.

Talking to one of my best friends, Brittany, helped create this.



I gave you my
love
&
you gave me your lust.
&
it broke me down.
You left me
stranded,
defeated
&
alone
on the side of the
love
lane.
To watch my dreams
fade away with your tail-lights.
in
a
Western sunset.
&
From then on,
it's been nothing but darkness.

I had a dream a few weeks ago.
Check it out.

Somewhere,
in the middle of the astral plane,
I met the Sun.
I couldn't see his face,
for it was too beautiful for my caterpillar eyes to see.
He told me that he knew,
the angel I sold my soul too,
5 years and 155 days ago.
**** gets better,
someday keep that nice thought <3
cause
he tossed me a bag of magic star dust
and said use it well.
I plan too.
Double "o"
cause Bandit & The Love Cult is a
2-way street.
Respectively.
My poems for you.
Until then,
I'm just
biding my time,
biting my tongue,
waiting tables,
waiting on fate,
wondering when they're going to
hit a ***** up.
Patiently waiting in every way.
Until my magic is done
baking like a stoner.
Just believe in your
butter-fly hearts
that the suffering is almost over.
Patience is an art, just like poetry.
If you time travel
on the wishing well's schedule,
**** will get better.

In every bad-day-dream,
you have ever had.

There was always
a giant
Silver Serpent.

Staring at you.
&
Just a slithery second
away from your ******.  

That little ghost-tail.
Apparition-creature-thing.
That everyone seems to talk about?

While he is.

Slithering in through
the cracks of your mind.
&
Out of your hollowed out
graveyard heart.

I say, Astro.
Don't chu know?
Ya can't trick him.
Cause he is many years dead,
before you.

You can visit, him.

You just need a
different air-plane
to travel in.

Think about it.....

You little astral-star,
you.

Need to listen, closely.
Serpent talk
is
simply shady-speech
for
slutty-scummy-snakes.

Hi, my name is Jacob & Imma wrist cutter.
Once a cutter, always a cutter.
Addiction, this is kind of like
A.A
but
get rid of the first
A
and replace it with a W.C
and there you have it.
W.C.A.

Our mission is to get all
the active cutters
to cut it out.
Cut, slice, and skin
bad ****
not your body.
It's beautiful without the scars.
& You
DESERVE
to die in a better way.


No one should leave the earth,
passed out,
blue,
cut up
burnt up
dried out
thrown out.
Passed out ,
drowning in a pool of your own blood
is not a glorious end
to a magnificent person.
Cut out cutting.
The Love Cult has
plenty
of band-aids
if you ever wanted to come visit.
Stay a while.
You'll <3 The Love Cult.

December 24th: Slow down,
breathe, and relax.
Save your problems
for tomorrow
and calm your racing heart
Today.
December 25th: We pave the walkways
into the hearts of others
with ipods and gaming systems.
It's sad.
December 26th: The anxiety is over.
December 27th: Everything and everyone is beautiful.

Yeah,
I'll keep walking this tight rope.
But if I lose my balance and fall at the very hieght
of all my built up fears,
I pray someone will catch me.
Here's to free falling into the arms of love.

My standards exceed this world, I want to meet angels.

I never thought the winds of time would blow you away and leave me here
six blocks away
from where this endeavor all began.
I am the left overs of a life ended early.
My reflection is a ghost splashed with some life.
Awkward.

Love is free,
love is blind,
love will eat you up
and spit you out.
As soon as the next best thing comes a long.
Hell yeah, lets drink to that.

Counting down
the minutes
until my shoe laces
get tied together,
so I can fall in
love <3.
I'm getting kind
of bitter,
like a lemon drop
without the sugar rim.
Sidewalks and skyscrapers.
One day
I'm going to
find those
bright,
white,
camera flash
lights.
Yeah,
I'll make
it like a
dream.
Over night.

Men so quick
to point the finger.

When, they share equal
guilt.
In the alleged crime as well.

We're poster children
The few who got branded.

A scarlet letter,curse.
Many share.
But few wear.

Every white sheep,
is matched up with a black one.
To keep the flock in balance.

There are more of us.
Hidden in your slipping eyesight.

My heart beats
electric.
Till you pull the
plug.

Shut me down.
Let me die.
So I can start a new one.

Beep, beep, beep.
I'm going home.

Let's have a
photo shoot!

Its "time" to take
some snap shots
of your
soul.

You've been given;

10 years
&
10 frames.

To capture
that
sandy second,
minute.

Before it slides down,
to the very
bottom of
the hour glass.


Click-click-click
&
I'm Counting

3

2

1

smile.

The world is your
photographer.
&
The people
around you will
play
pretend
paparazzi!

More often than
you've been told to believe.

More often than
they say.

Hurricane:

Right, keep testing my waters.
I'm badder than Katrina,
my storm will sink your ******* "battle" ship in one hit.
The sea is cold and heartless and I'm just water.
Grab your umbrella it's gunna rain for days.

3 minutes:

Times slipping through my fingers. Life is just the previews, death is just the featured film. Circuit boards, my moods are electric. Flip the switch and complete the circuit. Like a newly changed light bulb, I am absorbing some of the darkness, that you failed to hide. Guess I'm just a bit manic and you're a bit sad.

High school nightmares
of
being everybody's spit catcher.
A real life
idiot
magnet
that attracts
nothing,
but,
negative
forces.
If you've ever felt like everything good repels away from you
& that you can only attract the bad.
Welcome to The Love Cult.

We are:
The kids that ate
their brown-bag
lunches
in one stall
then
purged
in the next.
Cause we were afraid of being labeled with bad brand names.

If you were the
kid in gym class,
that
no one wanted on
their team.
If you have ever felt
alone,
tortured,
abused
and abandoned.

When the only thing you can
do
to
suppress those suicide dreams
is
to use your body
as a make shift
punching bag.
Just remember,
There is a
big *** & beautiful
cuddle
puddle
that will hug you
& love you.
No matter
what anybody has said
about you.
We know that
you're something special.
I believe you're going to be okay,
someday sooner
than you think.
It's a nice thought you need to
Dig
Dig
Dig it, deep into your brain.

Hello.  
I'm Bandit & I'd like to invite you to
my family of passionate & loving friends.
We go by
The
Love
Cult.