It was a dream and we embraced it children fresh to play no time frame or end in sight.
As in those first stages we understand no remorse or pain simply the pleasure of time shared life truly turn's it all to shit in time my dear .
We laughed in those awkward moments of want and the cravings of pleasures unknown .
In moments I reflect between my personal haze so far the distance so bitter the man I can no longer understand to be myself.
In the eyes your innocence met life's sunset and I watched you become cold with are emotions winter.
Now empty I write as in other circles you breath to suppress yourself to none but me.
I remember the night together the walks down empty streets now that resemble myself pain doesn't fade it simply is masked by actors whom choose to pretend rather than exist.
Would you trade skill for happiness ?
The page I exist as I suppress everything that resembles a life.
It's always loaded I just haven't the balls to take the ride .
Empty is the park as strangers now walk a slope that's pitfalls stand without warning I wish you luck and hate the thoughts that you bring back to me I never stop thinking just choose to drown in the misery for others to enjoy.
I never forget I simply just mask what it is I never could
Old words empty page so distant we were.
Myths of logic the clouds loomed heavy I bask in the rejection as my flames have burnt themselves out I fear.
No chapter written, the end yet a scratch .
We spoke in riddles only to forget the reason now I find less bullshit in are lies so long I have forgotten are truths.
Dark scenes no light from this shutter so does escape the day burdens of are nights cast stones to a soon to be outgoing tide .
My words the ghost haunted only in shadows sometimes we must bury are dreams only to see nightmares through.
No pain me breath in a faithless embrace .
I no need for the stories so I will simply close the book.
Tomorrows a promise to the few and a reprise of extinction of my thoughts tonight.
Hate what you will never grasp I simply have grown to ignore it all the same .
A demented thought sometimes beats a million well intended lies.
Place your bets when the smoke clears I'll be there a little less left of the fool you once thought to know.
In the wreckage we stood in the moonlight now shadows we've become chase the rats away from the bones .
To many times I have chosen to exist a shell of the canvas can you still recognize what I no longer see myself?
We can kill in passion and thrive only within lust.
We can exist for today only to yearn for a image of what was never are past.
It will all have to fade sometime my dear .
Maybe we could ignore this but it's just not me to play it safe.
And when you find the edge will you push past or simply turn around?
Lit cigarettes linger as once did I there is always a part that should never be taken away .
In the moment we lingered as children afraid of the unknown .
then it was s nothing more of you as always there was far less of me . .
Fuck the past it only serves a crutch to collect dust with bitter thoughts and run down as this half vacant room.
And in the silence we knew the answers to questions we never cared to ask.
The page is dry .
It's a question I dreaded as much as any other .
It was always a simple one to ask and often the hardest most fucking annoying question to answer.
They seldom cared it was more like what they were expected to ask and I loathed the looks they gave when they asked it.
It was a mix of this idiot doesn't even make sense how could he be anything more than a bum.
That and well guess there's no need in asking does he work for a living.
My answer was always the same and it seldom was the answer they themselves thought they wanted to hear.
I write about life.
How do you mean?, they would always ask confused as I was on how to answer this simplistic question.
I write about the people that fill the bar the ones that judge outside the bar, the women long since who have become bitter and the drunks who are just happy to catch a buzz.
I write bout the bastards who thrive off the misery of others and the cruel bitches who break those same bastards all the same.
I write about myself cause I truly don't give a shit to know about you .
I just write because I exist.
And I write for I am a writer .
I paused to see the look that although the face was different the look was all to familiar.
Umm okay well I wish you the best.
The woman said as she turned and simply walked away wishing only to distance herself from the man who she could not tell if he was insulting her or just to caught up in his own bullshit to give a dam to begin with.
I had to laugh to myself for even though I was far from a people person sometimes I wish only to know this answer to this fucking question that followed me like some dark cloud.
My work always spoke for itself but it thrived separate from the man few people truly know .
And with me I always preferred to be distant from the reader.
I had been writing for as long as I could remember but those around me would truly have no clue if you asked them about my work.
And honestly that's how I prefer it.
The pen and the page hold magic and me I simply hold a drink.
Two forces that exist as one but make no mistake are greatly separate by design .
I would rather people know the illusion than the fool behind the curtain.
For when after they read the writer.
Seldom if by some strange chance we met did they ever ask so what do you write?
A hamster walked in the pub yeah you remember that was that group that has a fucking collection but no fucking group anymore yeah that makes as much sense as me cheers Hello your truly more fucked up than I.
She was broken fragile and me I was a horny poetic bastard who was always trying lend some umm comfort cause I'm a strictly well I'm kidding hey if I can take advantage of someone and see some boobies in the process it's all good in the hood.
Gonz give me one shot and a beer .
Of booze right?
What she replied ?
The shot you mean like booze.
The woman looked at me as most do like I was a pervert they would never be near unless I was running bar within my mind on a poetry site yeah I know fucking freaky shit right?
Look Gonz I swear just for once stop being a perve and get my dam drink and just shut the fuck up okay ?
I was in shock not from being snapped at from a female that happens all the time I'm used to being yelled at by my teenage wife skeeter .
Yeah just cause she catches you watching porn she gets all bent of shape .
Well sure I guess it was a little reckless going down the interstate but duh don't fall asleep while I'm driving I mean a girl has her needs what can I say .
No the shock was more from getting my ding ding caught in my zipper hey you know how many dirty movies start out with a woman asking for a beer and a shot yeah I know I'm seriously fucked up but hey I'm fun.
So after some manly tears shed and a few stiff ones hahaha that just sounded wrong can you guess I write this shit while I'm drinking?
Anyways after this emotional hamster finally calmed a bit and put away her tazer I had get to just what was or wasn't eating at her .
I thought deeply how I should speak to this fragile little hamster and the most caring sense I asked.
So bitch what the fucks eating at your ass?
Yeah I know I'm a charming bastard aren't I?
Well Gonz honestly it's just the way guys are on this site I mean why cant they judge my writing for just that instead of act like total horn dogs and send me messages and get all weird?
This was a deep question asked to a shallow bastard like myself .
Well honestly heres the truth and I know it's going to be shocking so prepare yourself ready?
Umm I guess this hamster replied .
Guys are all horny bastards .
Really no shit Sherlock she replied .
Hey look sure some dudes can be nice and not act all weird but duh there probably gay .
I mean yeah writing sights should be about writing but duh who cares about art if you can get laid let me tell you the reason I became a writer.
I wasn't good at sports and I cant dance worth a fuck okay so if I make chicks think I'm deep them maybe I can get to see there boobies and boobies are fucking awesome okay .
Are fucking twelve this unnamed hamster asked me as she kicked back another shot of Jack Daniels .
Mentally maybe I replied but honestly what is age but a marker to say hey your to old to date this person or for people put you in prison for there judgment of your unconventional lifestyle .
You are one strange man Gonzo but at least your honest .
yeah I know its one of my biggest flaws other than that I'm fucking awesome well I mean besides the drinking pills and other pending cases all of which I'm not guilty well kinda.
We laughed we joked and when she wasn't looking I looked down her shirt yes it was a awesome night .
Well until she caught me and hit me with a beer bottle .
The night flew and so did are conversation .
You know gonz your really not half as much a pervert as people think you are .
Yeah I know don't tell anyone I have a bad reputation to uphold .
The hamster laughed and my goal was reached cause at the end of the evening I'm a joker and a pervert bartender but even I know how to treat people and I don't treat a writing site like hookup .com cause if I want to get laid I will do it the old fashioned way pay for it.
The hamster went on her way and once again I was left to work on my misspelled scribbling's and to look up freaky shit on the internet .
really what else a internet connection for?
Until next time stay crazy Kids .
There is no better freedom then in this highway and the thrill of a willing soul beside you before your nights end.
Maybe we thirst for the attraction of something strange maybe its just the thirst to feel something at all.
A razors sting and a steady breeze the highways marker leaves my epitaph no visitors need darken this place for I have long since outgrew my coffin so long ago.
Taste it with me my dear for nothing goes better with agony than a good dash of simple lust.
Strip clubs and the most elegant neon light I hold my glass to view it's reflection sometimes we all lose track me I find more solace in a dead end street than laying beside another as empty as me.
We viewed the wreck a wicked pleasure we knew it was destined we simply didn't care .
Maybe I'm the one who finds comfort of the depths a train that cuts the nights silence so haunting yet peaceful all the same.
Burnt out promises and one night stands faces change yet the reflection although aged still shadows my past my friend how have you been,
And are you still tortured as I?
When there gone is almost as empty as when there here .
Enjoy your company and speak without the bullshit that so many others choose to spawn in such well intended lies .
I pass my hours alone a bottle and my thoughts a highway always before me .
Paradise is was in the moments like old photos they haunt my thoughts as they cling to faded walls of sentimental fools none such as misplaced as I.
Dim lit confessions so tragic the flaws .
Nothing shines as beautiful as a match within a vacant room.
We are reflections of the embers and nothing more .
So fucked up and so perfectly flawed by design.
And then there was a silence that spoke deeper than any words ever could.
I was a stranger to all and most of all a villain to myself.
It was at fifteen I began my love with the bottle a affair I still hold true as friends resemble highway markers worn still standing yet never do the grasp my road they simply judge my miles.
You all start pure as life fucks us all up in such different and brutal yet perfect ways.
Drugs a experiment for which I have earned a degree cocaine a vice women far more deadly to me neither of which I intend to stop using anytime soon.
The road was my lure and still the deserts thirst shall never be quenched I feel a pirate whom stands amongst strangers I have known for a lifetime and held that much more of regret.
Shards of my past escape fragments of my existence color the nights black and gray a vague thought of a harsh intrusion I'm beyond what most would consider there limits I will be fine.
Now let me tell you yet another well intended lie.
I have buried more friends now I only wish to hear those voices that made me feel the warmth in this cold of success.
Fuck if I can pretend to hold it together the ships sank and I am but a ghost that haunts this frame that stands before you now.
To feel pain is to feel something at least .
I bare no cross for I claim no guilt so place your bullshit on someone else for it will never plague my existence my friend.
I'm here now so don't cast a farewell before the final round my dear,
We all know demons I simply bask in there hell for a wicked charm and a burnt out existence that is I.
I view the image in the mirror and understand who I am.
Can you truly say the same?
Sometimes the ride is all that matters no direction has suited me most my life.
I listen to the music of the night and smelt the ocean as I tasted the salty winds embrace.
I'd come to an understanding of emptiness was far better than the false comfort of another's secrets were better off left buried with only one lost soul serving as the map.
I sat at the bar for a while not speaking to others as I found it far more comforting to be lost within my own lies and illusions insanity makes for good company.
Far better than the bullshit of some ego driven windbag.
We were always happy in the moment but it was alone that let the demons wreak havoc upon our memories, why couldn't I ever just get over bullshit and leave the past a corpse to rot within the ground?
In depths of your own thoughts you will find the truths that are not mired by your own lies.
A man's ego is but a wildfire soon to be out-of-control and so easily snuffed out by another's manipulation.
I couldn't give the answers when asked questions anymore, Fuck if I cared to answer I just struggled to exist let alone fix others.
And my vices were given the excuse they so desired.
Why can't we just be like this she asked?
Because moments my dear are simply that.
And time is a bastard of a friend who exist only to bitter you and where down your soul like the sun does to the old man's skin turning fresh intentions to worn-out leather hide.
Maybe I'm a bastard maybe you're just a bitch maybe were all flawed and I was simply looking for someone more fucked up than ourselves.
Stroke our own ego and say well at least I'm not that fucking bad.
I never care for the destination I simply exist for the trip.
Maybe I'm running from something maybe I'm just happy to escape, maybe I'm just a fool to life but I've seen enough to know the blindness of passion and the deceit of a well intending heart.
We drove from miles happy to exist and content not to speak.
Sometimes the silence says it all my friends.