Inhale exhale the sorrow
Release burdens borrowed
Lacerate the final tie
That holds us to this lie
A life of plastic
Soul so elastic
Stretch till thin
Pulling the threads
Tearing the self from within

Walk the path
The one not taken
Walk on the grass
Avoid the cobble
****** to death
**** the martyr
Take the heretic
To the gallows

Trust the blood
The crimson link
We’re all bound
By this chain

Cells within
Cages created
Walls built up
No wonder we’re jaded
So I’ve faded
Back to the real
Numbness gone
Please, tell me how I should feel

Opinions of old
Are the options of the young?
No new muse
Just the breeze
And the smell of the willow tree

Fall onto one knee
Pray to the master
False façade
Image shattered
So walk alone
No footsteps follow
Keep on walking
Do not wallow

This ink on my skin,
Is like the ink in the pen
That I put on the page
To show where I have been
Document some thoughts
Emotions some lost
Break down with the math
As a vote not cast
But always showing
Growing not loathing
Patience is the key
To love what’s to be
Cause as a Beatle once said
“let it be, let it be”

Smoke to remember, drink to forget
Lay with another just to feel less regret
Howl at the moon while you stare at the sun
Sit up late waiting for a shadow
A silhouette of the past
Trying to find what was lost
Only to forget what it was

An empty bar,
there's something magical
about the concept.

No drunkards
spilling cheap beer
on themselves,
no ***** barflies
leaning against
bathroom stalls.

No rough necks
or the doomed
preaching their
individualistic sermons.

One can find peace
in an empty bar.
A zen like state,
drinking beers
to achieve
the aim of
tantric Buddhism.

She smiled as we past
and for a moment
we lived in each others eyes.
My hand traced the outline
of her hips
as I leaned in for a tender kiss.
But, then she was gone
off in an alternate direction
from mine.
Departed from my mind,
I fall in love
and die every day.
I wonder if she has the same thoughts
if their is depth behind her beauty.
I wonder what her name
could be,
probably not Stacy,
her name must be exotic
maybe something like Talei.
Did she notice me?
Or am I just
a greedy child
pining for attention?

The answers to me are unkown.
Maybe we'll cross
paths again
and we'll dance in
each others eyes.
I may even ask her name,
I hope the day will come.
But until then
the loner
is I
in search of another lone soul
that I can be alone with.

So sick of these parties
and college bars.
I hope she likes
dive bars
and good whiskey.
Conversation, the sharing of thoughts
and dreams
is far more intimate
than an embrace
of flesh,
an exchange of fluids.
To expose our demons
and let them dance.

But this is only thought,
not a reality.
Tonight we're drinking bourbon
in my dreams.

Smoke exits as the door swings open,
banging on a wall, tipping the trash can.
The cloud floats up towards the sky
to meet with the horizon
adding white to the crimson tinted sun.

Photogenic teens all group together
to take a 'selfie' with the horizon.
By their feet sits tall boys
of cheap malt liquor.
They cheer,
they shout
proclaiming that this is their one and only life,
the world's ****** up so it's best to be the same.

A short **** and a busted contraceptive.
In nine months comes another ******* child
born to wander in search of a dream
that will never be seen.

Rain falls but never to the container
we become thirsty sipping
on coronas with moldy limes.
Pressing the salt to the wound
to mummify a scar to present
to the thrill seekers.
All the while a fiend lays in some dank alley way
with pin pricked veins.
Talking philosophy with
another homeless man who cannot read.
"We need another dollar, we need change"
but the right change is not found in the pocket,
it's not found in a bank.
The right change cannot manifest in green paper,
it comes inside the hearts and minds
of men, women, and children
who live for later