It doesn’t make much sense that I love you.  I’m so wrong for you, and you so right for me.  I guess it does make sense.  But you don’t love me so don’t feel bad.  It’s okay, I understand.  I’m not a high class, well-educated girl.  I feel like you need someone more like my sister, not hot-mess me.  I never match, I’m always late, my hair is always frizzy, I can’t dress myself nice, I love you.  I ******* love you.  Why can’t it be that simple?  Why can’t it just be

I love you
I love you too
I love you more
I love you

I love you.  So completely.  So needy.  Truer than blue.  You’re just

So.

Blue.

And I love you.

Your eyes.  Your smile.  Your laugh.  The way you talk with your hands.  And slur Italian so ****. Your arms. Your muscles. Your skin. Your sweat. Your spit.  Your feet. Your chest. Your strut, hips swaying. Your hips, those hip bones.  My mouth is watering. I want you.

I love your anger.  I love your jealousy.  I love your stubbornness.  I love your cockiness.  Your ****, too.

I love your hangovers.  I love your attitude problem, the way you talk down to me and ruffle my hair.  And tease me and talk to me and you don’t love me.

And it breaks me so violently, snaps every single one of my ribs, one at a time.

Crack. Crack. Crrrrrackkk-kah.

It hurts me.  It will **** me.  But it’s so true.  Because you are so completely and fully

Blue.

You consume me, floodwaters breaking the gates in my mind, leaking into every cavern, swimming debris of you slicing my brain, shallow cuts bleeding into the blue.

You move me, an ocean untamed, your waves thrash against my sanity, turn switches all the way ON.

But you go through me, you don’t see me.  You are this endless, perfect, vibrant, enormousity of sky and I am a bird, mesmerized by your beauty.  

I’m not Old enough
Smart enough
Wise enough
**** enough
Charming enough
Graceful enough
Clever enough
Fast enough
Strong enough
Tall enough
Skinny enough
Crazy enough
Impressive enough
Bodacious enough
Perfect enough

To ever win you.

How is it possible for one person to make you feel so absolutely wonderful and absolutely awful at the same time?  Even now I feel self-conscious writing these words, as if you are somehow perched behind me silently dotting i’s and crossing t’s.  I wish I could be prettier about this.

For you.

I ******* love you.

And I can’t say a word.  I’m afraid to inconvenience you.  I don’t want to make you feel anything but bliss. Part of me wishes you could just feed off my rich, sweet, sticky love for you.  And you could live forever.  But part of me knows you don’t want to sip from my overflowing cup.

And
You
Come
First

So I’ve sewn my mouth shut and fed you the key.  I only hope you’ll reject it, throw up stinky bile all over me.  It’s the only love from you I even deserve.

I love the way you touched my thigh.  Your fingers just barely grazed it, as if sitting next to me was so natural you forgot I wasn’t a continuation of you.  I only wish your lips had followed.

Sometimes I imagine myself getting drowned deranged drunk and spilling my thoughts all over you, a slimy shower of emotion you would rub all over that ******* chest and your heart would pound so loudly veins would rip.  But then I snap back into reality when I bump into a pole.

You smell like Italy, summer, on the beach, with an ice cold fruity drink in my hand.  White white teeth, smiling around an orange wedge.

Whenever we talk I secretly reread our conversations and overanalyze and morph and mold them into the perfect love.  You and me.  I think you are pounding at the door ten flights down screaming my name.  But it’s just all the stupid drunk druggy college kids.

Am I a stupid drunk druggy college kid

To you?

I remember when you hit me in the foot with a door and I yelped “ow” and crouched to the ground. And you crouched down and said, “Are you okay?”  But you looked right into me, into my muddy eyes, and you were

Soooooooooooo thisthisthisthisthisthis close to me.

And I got angry.  And said, “Yeah, I’m fine, ****, calm down.”  Why did I do that?

I told you I have a bad memory.  I don’t.

Have you ever lied to me?

I’ve been writing so much all I can smell is the tangy bitter smell of ink.  And it’s sad that that’s the only sensation I’ll ever know when it comes to you.  

Unless you want ***.  And you might.  I could give myself too, let you use this mint-condition waterbag shell.  You could use me ‘till I wear down to bone and my organs look like rotten vegetables.  But it would **** me faster.

I will be your *******.  You can cheat on me and hate me.  And chew my nails.  Eat my skin.  You already set me on fire.  I’m just gonna burn out, anyway.

I want to look in the dictionary and write down every single word that belongs to you.

I want to write you suicide notes.

Every time I eat an apple, I think of the time you let me take a bite of your forbidden fruit.  And you bit right on top of my saliva and teeth marks.  Like nothing.

Because you are everything.  And I am everything else, nothing.

Soulmates.  So you say.  Why do you tease me?  You hang yourself right above me, a shiny, round, juicy, tender, tempting, sweet nectarine without a single bruise, just out of my reach.

I howl my rage at the moon every night, for tattooing your contagious inferno across my throbbing chest.

You make me cry.  Did you know that?  I cry into my pillow so it stifles my whimpers.  I sound like a choking, sputtering, snot-filled dog.  And I can never swim to the surface of the loneliness that is drowning me.

Sometimes, I just wanna ******* punch you.  And knock all your teeth out.  Stab you up the nose so the whole **** thing falls off in a gurgling, bubbling, ****** mess.  Because

Well I don’t know

You make me mad

But that made me think of you dying and the jolt that just went through my body was so searing I pray you’re immortal.

And I never pray.

If you danced from midnight
to six A.M. who would understand?

The runaway boy
who chucks it all
to live on the Boston Common
on speed and saltines,
******* in the duck pond,
rapping with the street priest,
trading talk like blows,
another missing person,
would understand.

The paralytic's wife
who takes her love to town,
sitting on the bar stool,
downing stingers and peanuts,
singing "That ole Ace down in the hole,"
would understand.

The passengers
from Boston to Paris
watching the movie with dawn
coming up like statues of honey,
having partaken of champagne and steak
while the world turned like a toy globe,
those murderers of the nightgown
would understand.

The amnesiac
who tunes into a new neighborhood,
having misplaced the past,
having thrown out someone else's
credit cards and monogrammed watch,
would understand.

The drunken poet
(a genius by daylight)
who places long-distance calls
at three A.M. and then lets you sit
holding the phone while he vomits
(he calls it "The Night of the Long Knives")
getting his kicks out of the death call,
would understand.

The insomniac
listening to his heart
thumping like a June bug,
listening on his transistor
to Long John Nebel arguing from New York,
lying on his bed like a stone table,
would understand.

The night nurse
with her eyes slit like Venetian blinds,
she of the tubes and the plasma,
listening to the heart monitor,
the death cricket bleeping,
she who calls you "we"
and keeps vigil like a ballistic missile,
would understand.

Once
this king had twelve daughters,
each more beautiful than the other.
They slept together, bed by bed
in a kind of girls' dormitory.
At night the king locked and bolted the door
. How could they possibly escape?
Yet each morning their shoes
were danced to pieces.
Each was as worn as an old jockstrap.
The king sent out a proclamation
that anyone who could discover
where the princesses did their dancing
could take his pick of the litter.
However there was a catch.
If he failed, he would pay with his life.
Well, so it goes.

Many princes tried,
each sitting outside the dormitory,
the door ajar so he could observe
what enchantment came over the shoes.
But each time the twelve dancing princesses
gave the snoopy man a Mickey Finn
and so he was beheaded.
****! Like a basketball.

It so happened that a poor soldier
heard about these strange goings on
and decided to give it a try.
On his way to the castle
he met an old old woman.
Age, for a change, was of some use.
She wasn't stuffed in a nursing home.
She told him not to drink a drop of wine
and gave him a cloak that would make
him invisible when the right time came.
And thus he sat outside the dorm.
The oldest princess brought him some wine
but he fastened a sponge beneath his chin,
looking the opposite of Andy Gump.

The sponge soaked up the wine,
and thus he stayed awake.
He feigned sleep however
and the princesses sprang out of their beds
and fussed around like a Miss America Contest.
Then the eldest went to her bed
and knocked upon it and it sank into the earth.
They descended down the opening
one after the other. They crafty soldier
put on his invisisble cloak and followed.
Yikes, said the youngest daughter,
something just stepped on my dress.
But the oldest thought it just a nail.

Next stood an avenue of trees,
each leaf make of sterling silver.
The soldier took a leaf for proof.
The youngest heard the branch break
and said, Oof! Who goes there?
But the oldest said, Those are
the royal trumpets playing triumphantly.
The next trees were made of diamonds.
He took one that flickered like Tinkerbell
and the youngest said: Wait up! He is here!
But the oldest said: Trumpets, my dear.

Next they came to a lake where lay
twelve boats with twelve enchanted princes
waiting to row them to the underground castle.
The soldier sat in the youngest's boat
and the boat was as heavy as if an icebox
had been added but the prince did not suspect.

Next came the ball where the shoes did duty.
The princesses danced like taxi girls at Roseland
as if those tickets would run right out.
They were painted in kisses with their secret hair
and though the soldier drank from their cups
they drank down their youth with nary a thought.

Cruets of champagne and cups full of rubies.
They danced until morning and the sun came up
naked and angry and so they returned
by the same strange route. The soldier
went forward through the dormitory and into
his waiting chair to feign his druggy sleep.
That morning the soldier, his eyes fiery
like blood in a wound, his purpose brutal
as if facing a battle, hurried with his answer
as if to the Sphinx. The shoes! The shoes!
The soldier told. He brought forth
the silver leaf, the diamond the size of a plum.

He had won. The dancing shoes would dance
no more. The princesses were torn from
their night life like a baby from its pacifier.
Because he was old he picked the eldest.
At the wedding the princesses averted their eyes
and sagged like old sweatshirts.
Now the runaways would run no more and never
again would their hair be tangled into diamonds,
never again their shoes worn down to a laugh,
never the bed falling down into purgatory
to let them climb in after
with their Lucifer kicking.

i'll admit i found him humorous upon first sighting.
he was
obese,
with one leg,
in a motorized wheel chair,
wearing large sunglasses,
a volunteer firefighter cap,
and awkward headphones, circa '79.

"hello there, sir!"
he shouted as his wheel chair and body
shifted, slanted, bounced with each crack in the pavement.

"hey, how's it goin'?"
i called back, with a warm and hospitable tone.
i've been trying to be more social.

"i am blessed, but sir, would you be so kind
as to help me get some food?"

"yeah sure. where's the food?"
good deed for the day.

"i don't know, i guess around this here corner. i'm lookin' for that pizza place."

"oh okay, i think it's just over here past the bookstore."

"alright. what's your name, boy?

"josh. and yours, sir?"

"james. josh it is a pleasure to meet you. and i thank you.
you see i'm homeless, mr. josh. and you wouldn't believe
how often people turn away from me, josh."

"that's awful."

"yes it is. but i pray for them.
they need it.
may the lord forgive them. may the lord forgive me."

"here's that pizza place."

"excellent. would you go in and get me some food?"

oh. i'm buying him food.
that's what "help me get some food" means.

"of course. what would you like?"

i returned ten minutes later with a gyro, a pepsi, and some chips.

"thank you mr. josh," he said with a bright smile, "this will be a fine meal.
now, josh, you have done a good thing. look at my eyes."
he removed his sunglasses.
his eyes seemed normal enough.
"i ain't no druggy or dope fiend. i'm just james w. green. mr. green.
i was a bass player that just fell on some bad luck. now josh, i'm asking
you as a friend to just give me a little more, so i can eat tonight."

this made me uncomfortable.
i hate to admit it, but i began to suspect this uni-legged, bass player, of ripping me off.

i gave him a 5-dollar bill. that's a weeks worth of suppers at taco bell.

he said a prayer for me.

then he asked me on behalf of jesus,
"can you look into your heart and give generously? just one big donation and who knows what could happen!?"

i gave him another ten.

"thank you mr. josh. i appreciate it. remember me? and do me a favor?"

"sure."

"tell the world about mr.green!"

you're welcome, james.

Don't call me "punk", don't call me "druggy"
And don't you care call me by my home town.
That's where I've been not who I am
And if that is your impression of me
you obviously don't know who I am.
But that doesn't surprise me
No one in this town ever really knew
Next door doesn't even grasp it
So let me explain it to you
Though I am always myself I am not always the same person.
When I'm with you I'm the person you want
When I'm with them...
But it always seems I'm a little too much for you
And not enough for them
But unlike you
They don't seem to mind
They don't criticize my every move
And they love me without putting me down
Or trying to put me into a box where I don't fit
And
I'm sorry
But I just don't fit in your box.
I'm not made of clay that you can bend into a desired shape
And my heart doesn't have strings attached that you can pull like a puppet
And make me dance
You cant control who I am
Who I was
Who I will be
I can't even do that.
So you can put on your show
And make everyone believe you are something you are not
But I know who you are
Because I don't try to put you into any boxes
Not even the one that you are bending over backwards to get into.
Am I the only one who finds it liberating to breathe in the fresh air
Instead of being confined to breathing the same air
As you are passed on from one box to another
Until the only one left is a pine box that will hold you forever
Excuse me if that is the only box I ever want to fit into
The shapes I make are way too elaborate to be labeled as "punk" or "druggy"
And especially not by my hometown.

Just keep livin in this feelin
Never am I beleivin
That **** thats written
Questin for questionin

Im losin
No reasonin
No serotonin

Jane, dope burnin got me floatin
Lucy dances turnin got me smilin
Druggy desperate runnin got me huffin

Huff and puff an puff, pass
One piggy in a house oh straw smokin grass
Nother piggys house of glass
Last piggys house of cards but, alas

Little piggys grow big and pass
One pig in the straw smoked over ash
Nother pig served with a glass
Last pig out of cards, alas

Last pig out of the farm
Free hog free from the harm
Hunted down with a firearm
Pow Pow hogs need not roam

No escapin the farm
Just dyin in a drugged calm
Or dyin strugglin in dirt, ****
So just chill and spread *****

New meat for the grinders
Fresh meat for the diners
Pigs aint **** but some dinners
For pigs with gold incisors

why cant i cry without you being the cause
why cant you leave me
dont try and fix your mistakes
you know my name , not my personality
i show you my fake personality so that i can protect my self from you entirley
your not my mom
you can yell
you can critizize
you can call me names
to everyone else yuor a bad ***
to me you are a lowlife trying tom make herself feel better
i find it amuzing
that you think you can hurt me
that you think im crying because i want to be you
weel im not
im crying because you are so jelous
that your trying to replace my mother
one of the only exzact copys of me
well everytime you call me names
you are just hurting yourself
because i know that i am 3 times younger than you
and still the more respnsible mature reliable trustworthy person
and the only thing important is that i know that
so go ahead try to get me
try to make yourself feel better
because every word
every thought
every smirk
makes me the better person
you cant break my heart because i have a shell
a fake personality
only my blood know the real me
the secrets
the things that would crush you
thank you for making me stronger
thank you for being so low that you make a druggy seem sky high
i was only 10 when we met
but now im only 13 and i feel like im thirty
ready
ready to take on the world
im only a kid
but thanks to you im emotionaly a full grown adult
you need a script
but all i need is my mind
i play it real while you are always trying to be plastic
your blood son already hates you
i hate you
the boys hate you
what more do you want
you drove us away
are you really so low as to drive my dad away to
then the only thing you will haVE
IS A DISGUISE
the only thing youll have
is the lies that you tell everyone
your own mother is under your spell
but im not
im free
on my own
go ahead  do it
lie
because i know the truth

Lol Failure

Too much time to change your mind on the way down. Plus your scared of heights

Bandages and shoe laces stop that ****. hide it with tattoos on the wrist

Too violent, big mess, GSW fail now a vegetable and someone's burden

A lynching? Quit it! KKK gets no favors

Peace and quiet in the car, garage door closed. Then your favorite song comes on. Took too long after all. Don't you drive a prius?

Like you don't know how to swim. Sharks don't live in lakes

Nissan, lexus, most new GMC all have auto detection braking. Get back on the side walk dummy.

Too high of a tolerance you druggy and every Corner has an ER. Now your on the list with diarrhea

Police knows the world is watching they'll pepper spray before they draw now. Now your blind and got your *** whipped with a. Night stick

Honey? Bears? Really?

Circuit breakers homie! Now you have soggy toast.
Smile and shovel the pastries maybe you'll get lucky and cholesterol will stop ya.

Insensitive? Yes,but none the less,
Guess That's my LOL Failure.
-Xin-

If I were to tell me
My much younger me
That I'd be a druggy
Well, I'd probably believe
If I were then able to see
This handful of boring
Well, I'd think I was crazy

She was almost tempted
To jump from the bridge
Despite the crowds that
Passed, despite the coldness
And filth of the water below,
But she didn’t; she walked
On and slit her wrists in the
Hospital corridor instead;
In some dark place no one
Noticed until the blood
Followed her footsteps
Like a worrying child.

Two men stopped her
And took her to nurses
Busy at some sideward
Desk; found her in the
Corridor, they said, blood
Everywhere, doesn’t answer,
Though, we’ve tried that,
Won’t say a dickybird,
Maybe she’s dumb or deaf,
One man suggested, standing
Back as if to see her better,
Watched the young girl as
If for the first time, taking
In the blood soaked jeans,
Tee shirt, hands and arms
And turned away, nodding
To his companion, with a
One of those druggy types,
No doubt, suggestion in the
Slow movement of his head.

Then she was gone, taken by
The nurses behind curtains,
Low voices, murmurs; their
Interest slipping away, the
Men moved on, chatting
How Cardiff would do in
The next match, and don’t
Tell the wife about the girl,
She’ll get the wrong idea,
Then there’ll be hell
To pay, one said, walking
Through the doors into
The afternoon sunshine.

She was almost tempted
Speak, to say how the devil
Tempted her to jump, how
The voices told her what to
Do, but she said nothing,
Just watched the nurses
Dab at her slit wounds with
Wads of bandages and frantic
Touches of their hands, while
Up on the ceiling, she noticed
A fly buzzing around the naked
Bulb, looking for a way out
From death; just like me,
She thought, just like ****** me.

A message for you young truckers,
You long lovers,
You schmucks, *****, and go-getters...
This is as good as it gets.
The truth is, school *****.
And so does your 9 to 5 part-time job,
But this is the time to find prime opportunities to get carried away and run
To say all the wrong things at all the right seconds
And to never, EVER get caught drinking your parents' ***.
Be bummy, be a druggy, be a top score, or be the eye sore of the student body
But you will never be nobody...
You will NEVER be nobody.
Let somebody tell you they don't remember your name,
Then give that chump a reason to never forget
Because in this game of high school social status, there's no such thing as a winner
And you deserve whatever respect you let people neglect you of.
**** 10 year reunions, that cute girl in math class still won't think of you
Unless you act now, before you're ten years too late.
If you want something, you better learn to work for it,
Because these are the easy years, the queazy years, the "let's ditch and smoke a bleezy" years.
And before you know it, you'll be tap dancing on a keyboard when you should be working
Warning the youngins that their glory years are just about done.

our little druggy girl's
actin like shes in a whirl
twitchin likes shes gettin hit
baby must be out of it
eyes blown wide
shes terrified
someone says shes trippin bad
other asks how much shes had
hystarics start bustin out
were losing her theres no dobut
once panic set in
no way she'd win
stumblin about
she starts to shout
tripps back
loud crack
shes so *******
brains got spewed
sirens blared
someone cared?
see the flashing light
escape into the night

morning paper said
they pronounced her dead

a kind word for
the girl who swore
once upon a time
she'd always be fine.

A day in the life of an alley cat, struck dead on the least busy street in the smallest town in Nebraska.
1 am: Druggy, *** you money, ******, don't deserve love, not easy to tell mom. I think of you. Your lungs are begging for my scold. Control is the word you use when no other fits the sentence. You occupy my mind when I am restless, testing the limits of kindness and low voices.
4 am: Your smile, the warmest hot chocolate of your eyes, your knuckles, the baby fat that melted from you, it haunts me. It's like I caught of a glimpse of the wrong angel, the half rotten, beyond gone, but still glowing angel. I killed you with a .45 and a gallon of mouthwash. You dripped into the Earth as a puddle beneath my toes. Gracious Lord, do not forgive me. I know I don't.
8 am: Insomnia without poetry. Tired without body. Maggots without mouths. Catholic priest, without sympathy. God without mercy. Drug abuse, without the realization of undignified addiction. Suicide without the comfort of killing, certainty.
3 pm: Sentiment, true and real, above annoyance and protectiveness. I am now a ghost above a body, finally weightless, finally free of His hands.
6 pm: Joy breaks open like a candy, soft center.
10 pm: Life tears my fingers open, unwraps the flesh from bone like Christmas. I feel my tongue fall out. Dusty antique radios are cleaned, losing authenticity. Their songs scream, sounding a lot like Billy Joel, after the catgut snaps. I feel my mind crawl out of the china cabinet.
11 pm: Nothing. There's really nothing to say at all.

I'm too young
To know
To care
To understand
To bare
The situation and its importance

I'm too short
To reach
High enough for the stars
To ever make it far
In life
Because I extract it into bleach

I'm too ugly
To understand
How hard people work
To keep themselves neat
With perfectly pressed shirts
And gorgeous pearl eyes
I'll never realize
Never stop the lies

I'm too stupid
To care
About people
And what they wear
What they say
What they do
How they think of me
What they prove

I'm too
Fat
Idiotic
A druggy;
Alcoholic
High on the world
And drunk on loneliness
An alien
That is their specimen

I'm not.

I'm older than you can imagine,
Reaching farther than what you see,
Beautiful, for I am God's creation,
I just think a little differently.

If you're afraid of the unknown
Or of "things" who differ
The world will move on without you
While I run ahead
Quicker
Than light can travel

(Is that "too" much for you?)

I feel like dying
a death they'll count in likes.
Always second. Next best
  option -- may he rest in peace.

So many people other than me.
Having to apologize for bleeding
  on the knife in my back.
You cheated on me -- please still love me.
There are so many other men -- please
  let  me  be  your  eternal.

I'm a side *****, worth my weight
  in wallet and ****. My head of
hair is curly. Tangles of fun;
  all connected to ordinary brain.

Tell me your proud, father.
Tell me I'm worth something, mom.
Am I contributing to the economy, America?
May I crumble so that my pieces fill
the cracks that I could never fill.

So many thin, druggy boys and
a crazy, ******-honey are trying
to stomp me like the ****** dream
that I am. Pure Side *****. Pure
Side *****. Graphic designers
and killers, oh my.

But wait!
  Me?
It couldn't be me
  that you're speaking to.
Die for the American Dream?
  You want me to write for
no one to read? You want me
  to **** until I can feel?
You want me to fall apart
  and be taken care of by someone
who isn't even born yet?
  You want my money.
  You want my ***.
  You want my violence.
  You want my soul.
  You want me on one side.
  You want me to **** my brother.
  You want me to be red or blue.
  You want me to pick a news channel.
  You want me to uncover my camera.
  You want to regulate me.
  I am your side *****. I am your
  side *****. You can destroy me
  and I will apologize for the
  mess my body made.

The grass is greener on the other side,
so they say
I never minded the bright stains
or the sight of road **** remains.

You get older and the stains morph to chains
and rips
and whips and cheap tricks.
Cigarettes and dice
and I'm still learning to tie my kicks.


Years later and the front door's pounding
waking up without recollection--
I ease and tip-toe without sounding
off any alarming
action
that would cause reaction
and astound
forcing the men in suits to over-zealously bound
over the couch towards me
and unrightfully
clap on irons and exit the engrossed hostile environment
I've founded in this unconscious establishment


Now I lie every night
holding an ongoing staring battle with the concrete stone above me
and dream of the tricks
fly kicks
druggy flings
and the bright green stains on my knees.

They drugged me to remove depression
Now i'm a druggy just to feel it again
I'll get down just to have direction
I don't know how to deal with being empty

I left her because i didnt feel a thing
When i left i didnt feel a thing
I ****** around and never missed a beat
My heart pounds on like it wasn't ment to be

Nobody understands when i tell the truth
Nobody knows when i tell a lie
I dance with the devil because i don't value life
When people question they don't get why

These thoughts in my mind make it hard to think
So i try to laugh to take away the pain
People always left red in the face
Comedy comes from the darkest place

I don't want to be alive
I don't care if i'm dead
But i find it very hard to die
Without a gun to my head

Sorry for contacting but my mind is in overdrive ...

The fact that you randomly met some woman, the first to give you attention since we met and you slept with her...Does that mean you would have done the same thing at any time if someone had just given you the attention? Were you kissing before you even left the social so you knew what would happen when you got back to hers? Did you make the first move? You obviously found her attractive and wanted to **** her. Did you fancy her more then me? Am I that unattractive to you is that why you never wanted ***, could never get hard but you could **** her? Did you cuddle her afterwards? Was it actually in our house, in our bed? Did she stay for breakfast? Are you lying about the full entirety of the story? Do you still have her number? Did you *** in her? What if she's pregnant? When you had *** with me on the Tuesday did you think of her? How could you stick your ***** diseased **** in me knowing what you had done and what you could be passing onto me? Did you find it funny that you had ****** somebody else but you were acting so normal with me? Did you wish you had kept contact with her so you could do it again? Do you think of her when you're with me? Is this something you'll just do over and over again now because you're a lying cheating *******?

This isn't just the main thing. Since I met you you have been a druggy and you have spent years, actual years now lying to me and taking drugs secretly. Snorting away your money, snorting away your friends and snorting away me. You haven't just lied and kept your ***** little **** secret for a week you've kept this to yourself for years. What else are you lying about? You're very good at it. Convincing. I felt like I have trusted you always but really you've been taking me for a stupid idiot for years, lying to my face repeatedly over and over again. Who are you! Who the **** are you! You're still lying. Are you ever going to change? Do you even want to?

You say we can get over this, that everything will be better now. How can I even contemplate getting back with you when everything before has been a constant lie, a constant struggle. I will not get back with a druggy, a liar and now a ******* cheat! How can I ever trust you? How can you ever prove yourself? You've said all of this before, all of these words of change. I will not even contemplate thinking about being with you until you can show in some way that you're actually helping yourself.

Love you the slightest? Love you off the scales!!! Feeling like nukes dropping and trains derailed. Like pill popping and **** inhaled. Like time stopping and towers scaled. Like the whopping beauty being all unveiled. Super intense like fifty different drugs being shoved down the throat all at once. Super serene like a beautiful view on an oceans shore, classic music on cue. Super insane, like who in their right mind would fall for a guy with half a brain devoted to **** that seems basic and plain and cant ******* flirt without a bottle of champagne and the other brains half is going through pain  and my current life path has me in the wrong lane and I cant go through anything that causes major change, cause I'm a xenophobic ***** that likes to complain. Yeah, sure, everybody's got problems. Yeah, sure, there's always a way to solve em'. Yeah, sure, I look like a hobo druggy. But **** yes, I'm hella ******* lucky! I'll continue to love you off the scales while I'm slowly spilling out my entrails through lyrical stunts and poetic rhymes. I'll continue this until the end of time. <3 <3 <3

Please take time to read this <3

Few people know that I have come close to ending my own life, at least 4 times. At the time that is what I wanted, to die. Mostly because I thought it would take Away the pain and suffering I felt. I never fit in, kids at school would find any reason to make fun of me. When I was eight years old my sister and I were sent to a foster home. I was told on many occasions that my father wanted nothing to do with me. So I became depressed and lived by a label known as emo. One night I felt extremely depressed and I took a razor blade to my wrist. I watched as the blood ran out of the wound I had made and at that moment I realized I was addicted. Not only to cuting but to the feeling I got when I saw my blood. I knew I had a problem, I would cut every night just so I could feel something I could control and that I knew was real. My friends in middle school saw the cuts and tried to get me help but it only made it worse. I was put into therapy but that doesn't help unless you talk, in which I didn't. I didn't feel safe. The foster home my sister and I were living in was not a very good one. The guy was a creep. So we were forced out of that home and got adopted by my uncle. We tried many councilors and therapists but nothing seemed to help.
I eventually got an 18 year old boyfriend and I was only 15. He got me drunk one night and took advantage of me. He stole my innocence, and gave me something else in return. A baby. But that baby died. Know matter how much it hurts I know that baby is better off with out me. I was so young.
To this day, I still think about hurting myself but I am proud. I have gone a little over 4 months with out self harm, and with every day I grow stronger and stronger. So to those who took the time to read this, thank you. And if you are going through the same struggles, find a clear path and stay on it. Doesn't matter if you're an alcoholic, or a druggy, or even a *** addict. The only way to get better is through steps. Start with a week and slowly move up. I believe in you. Every single one.

The girl you made fun of yesterday went home and cried until she fell asleep. Did you know her own father is abusive and her mother is a druggy. Her mother says she doesn't get turned on anymore from her father so she goes and gets high every night until the sun comes up. Her father complains about this and rapes her until she bleeds all over her floor. She is the quiet one that thinks and dreams about her own death. You don't know whats going on in her home, you wouldn't unless you REALLY know her. She knows her family wouldn't care but she cares enough to stay. You can save a life, don't bully

What would I say to that boy so young?
Full of life, imagination and drive
How could I tell him what his mind would become?
Full of dread, anxiety and no pride
How did I end up like this?
A question I asked so many times
Swallowing pills just to exist
What kind of life does that make mine?

It got worse when I moved to London
Down every day but more work to do
My room became a dungeon
A city so big, but so few people to turn to
My mindset had rapidly sunken
Quick fix of drugs and cans of special brew
But the drugs that I kept on munching
Sent me further away from that child I once knew

Weeks had past and not one day spent studying
Not a care in the world. Not even a thought in my head
When I ended up in hospital is when it got worrying
Admitting to my parents felt like the hardest step
So many times in one day I had to explain, when I really felt like scurrying
It was then I realized that admitting to myself was actually the hardest step
I packed my bags and ran from that city, no one could stop me from hurrying
If I’d have stayed in that place for any longer, I fear I would have ended up dead

I was home at last, back where I belonged
Even if i was in debt, with a failed degree
I got a job in a kitchen that was oh so long
But I had family and friends all around me
It was then I met the girl I loved, the feeling was so strong
Every time I saw her my heart skipped a beat I suddenly felt free
But she was already spoken for, obviously I was wrong
I crawled back inside the cave I knew so well, with no one else but me

Over a year has passed I now live in a one bed flat
But with a bed thats big enough for two
That skinny druggy boy has gone and now I’m actually a bit fat
But happier than ever with you know who
That girl from before was unhappy like me, her relationship made her sad
We’ve been together ever since, I’m stuck to her like glue
The pills from the doctor sure help when times are bad
But Sarah nothing helps as much as you

What I would say to that boy oh so young
Is don’t worry about talking when times get hard
Sure drugs and alcohol seem like cheap fun
But they just paint over the cracks, don’t let go of your guard
Look at the positives and when you need help don’t run
When it seems like it will never get better, you feel permanently scarred
But those wounds do heal, never feel like life is done
Just take a deep breath and carry on

Lines and lines, druggy times.
Bleeding nostrils and racing thoughts.
Fast heart beats and feeling distraught.
Alert and awake, thoughts are chasing me in a maze.
I've lost it, I'm back on the powder.

They call me Kat, because my spirit animal is one of a cat like creature, and my drug of choice.
Fierce, sneaky, stealthy, and mischievous.
Kat is my name, one of many different personalities.
Freaky is her demeanor.

Wired and full of energy, mind is coming down, muscle spasms are happening.
I need to sleep, 2 in the morning and I'm writing forbidden thoughts.
Dreams that are nightmares that aren't stopping, I have no hold.

Will it ever stop?
Control before it becomes an addiction.
Hold, or the demons will rain, toxic tears to my waking existence.

You said you hadnt been kissed in a while
i told you i would kiss you
you said youd kiss me back and im overjoyed
I love you
The rest of my night was a swirled druggy haze

With sleep I fell and fell deeply too.
Into his withering meadows and among rationality.
Where those who are living have lost all vitality.
Limbless are some, some thoughtless too,
Never had a dream yet mine they walk through
Painting disbelief with their faces: I look to the sky
But my eyes are drawn to a castle at the end of my view-
Far off, far from the far out margins of mind.
      I walk with a beat, leaving the limbless behind,
I walk in his circle until it loses its point.
I fall, crawling around each and every wind.  
Until I feel time grabbing a hold of my knee joint.
I try and kick back- along the ground my teeth grind.
Then I break back untouched, but still trapped in my mind.  

I awake again, toothless and out-worn. A
broken spirit, hoping without it. Spinning madly.
Amidst my spin I see her arms, into watch I do fall gladly.
But being without time, I miss the perfect second.
And I awake again before the castle, its sombre music
somehow whispers as it calmly beacons.  
           Without wit or a winding tongue, I alone embark
up the hill as the songs grow louder in my head.
I pass a ‘laughing dead” as it rolls off into the night. Dark
is the blanket that descends on my plight. Its fed
by fear, but I have nothing but spite.
So I carry on alone, and with myself begin to fight.


“ I dare you to pass me. You’re a coward.
You’re a weak little druggy,  who’s ego empowers
him to believe that it is he who should belong at the top.
I’ll leave you to rot. Remove your mind from its shop.
I’m telling you stop. Turn round. And awake.
Or you can die here, while in sleep you but shake”

Welcome to my city, not that pretty but I'll stick with it, sick of it, original Canadian you can't get with me unless I give you a permit. Just a dish washer, just a native, just a rapper that won't stop, now listen to me i'll be forever real, my movement will never stop, bro I'm just getting started but I promise you I'll never flop. Grew up in E-town, only got into the rap thing since grade seven, had to release all my aggression. Artistic kid, I didn't matter if it were rap or dance, I needed to let go off my transgressions but I also hoped if I did it I could find romance. To be honest that's how I started, I rocked with it, hoping for acceptance because I hated always being the misfit. I was the awkward kid that could only hang out with the emo's and the druggy's or geeks, I never fit in, a christian kid made fun of because he was a jesus freak. That's why I get mad or question God, I'm reminded of all the nonsense I had faith in, where was God when I was caved in. The world took me in to sin, lost my way, the world has decayed, I see it as I walk through out the day. What is the truth, what it is that makes me-me, I just want to flee, I want to get out of this reality. Ill for real, words that could **** or heal, wondering if there a way I could appeal this deal. I never chose to live, I never chose to be this way, life is full of foul play. I want to change the world but I can't seem to change myself, hate everything and everyone, can't stand looking at ourselves.

What's that?
No the dark hole by your heart,
That void you're so desperate to fill with something,
Someone,
Baby girl feels like something's missing,
And it is,
Not money,
Not men,
And she knows this but chooses to use men to get to the money.
Who hurt you?
So bad that now you're hurting you.
Might feel good in those seconds, minutes, hours,
But when it's over what's left,
The dark hole by your heart,
The void that you're so desperate to fill with something,
A sniff, a sip, a puff,
Euphoric rush,
Druggy love,
Using men to get to the money to get to the drugs,
And when you come down what's left?
The dark hole by your heart,
The void that you're so desperate to fill with something,
Baby girl find your way to the light,
Please for me because I am you,
You are me,
We,
Need to find something to fill the dark hole by OUR heart,
The void that WE are so desperate to fill with something,
But this is not the way,
Find peace,
Find love,
Find God,
If we find peace in our love with God,
The dark hole by our heart will never again be the void that we are so desperate to fill.

Had to stopped on the run – here I’m standing inside of the summer rain
In the clump of Moldavian anchorites watching neon lights in lane
Am I live outside of the time or am I just completely insane?
Maybe God kidding me or maybe something working in my brain

Another, another black Stolzenberg night
Another, another Stolzenberg night

At the courtyard the princess Judith robbing leaves beneath the old lime tree
Various misfortunes had made her dark and bitter and cold homeless druggy
Tight she squeezed my left hand and she darted and angry glance at me
“We are just like a trees – she said – enslaved by chronic melancholy”

Listening to sounds floating from the spaces which we never heard before
Fairy tales resonating in the forest echoes of the lazy roar
Imitating her shout which has stopped percussion trance on wet dance floor
Since that night she was always escaping from every Warmian scarecrow

Sitting on the crowded ramp I've fallen in love with her and my beliefs was dead
We’ve destroyed the bathroom mirrors and a laughter was everything what we had
She was like a rainbow – she has come to me after rainy period
Just the only one person who has ever ever really drove me mad

Another, another black Stolzenberg night
Another, another Stolzenberg night

I will never forget it – that moment we were dancing in the cave
My the only one desire was to make you happy and fulfill and safe
All I can do for us is to write sounds of my feelings on the stave
And of course on every Monday to bring yellow Congo-flowers to your grave

As a boy I was destined to be a doctor.
Now I go to the doctors because I’ve been doctoring homemade remedies for pain and gain?
What did I gain.
A broken heart that’s forgotten how to love, what it was to feel a beat that could trickle all the way to my feet and in defeat I found yet another broken thing.
A broken mind that’s forgotten how to stride through time, that’s forgotten how to separate you and I. See there’s things that I can’t deny - yet there’s thing that YOU quickly deny.
See I’m not a druggy.
I’ve had more ODs through everyday living than I have on a high that I’m told is not living.
Living is easier through this world of mine, I’ve met the most imaginative people of my life through conversations in a green tin that holds every whisper of what we refer to as the “Shed People’s” dreams, who know of endless tales through more hazed eyes.
I guess I can’t deny that I’m an advocate of something society rejects and that’s why you’ll always reject me.
All because I can’t deny that YOU have views that contradict mine.
What a shame that adult drugs have taken me to better worlds that are much bigger than YOU and I.

Pain insufferable, pain unending,
Pain tearing, pain gnashing,
I have heard it all before
I have lived it once before
Pain, pain, pain, such a vain word

Hello, my name is pointless
And I am addicted to pain
It seems wrong to profess
I fear there is little to gain
I don’t recognize pain anymore
Yet peace is still a chore

How can I paint a clearer picture
I pretend to have a chance with her
Knowing the flame is but a flicker
I turn to the scripture
Yet it only stirs my pain quicker

See, I live off the pain
Whether I drown in complacency
Or swim myself to death,
I win
Whether I spend my days fixing the bone
Or must lose it in vanity,
I win
Whether I fight through the thorns of life
Or waste away in comfort,
I win
Whether I am forgotten alone
Or become lost at sea,
I win

Tell me, what should I fear more
To hear nonexistent voices
Or to want to hear them
Tell me, what should I fear more
To be addicted to the bottle
Or to desire to want it
Tell me, what should I fear more
To destroy a lifelong relationship
Or to long to see its end

As a drunk grabs his bottle
As a druggy grabs his needle
So too do I grab my knife

Trying to present my self as intellectual.
Makes me look like im pathetic.
I flow like water in the ocean.
Get it going like diaretic.
Spider senses start to tingle.
For the web site Christian mingle. Where I met a guy named
Shannon  bingle. Man actually had me shingle
Married to the roofing life.
Like Taylor Mackinney to her kraft singles.
Cheesy as they come. Logan gablehouse.  Is greasy.
The world is
thirsty for the fast deal
Sign like handcock on the contract.
Pro ball scholarship
But give handjobs in the back field.
Tyson smokes so much Marijuana
He knows how being black feels
When interrogated by the cops
Paranoia he doesn't act real.
My mom thinks she's European.
No native blood.
I asked her how does that feel.
She replied in French with Jordan gablehouse. Do you wanna taste your last meal...
J said you *******. Tell me how the grass feels.
And keegan just like forest Gump.
Hes dashing through the back marsh
To avoid the dudes with fast cars
Who blame him for doing bath salts...
Jack jack wanted aish so bad.
He collapsed in madness with me **** it yesh man thats real. And sad
Drugs I'm so disgusted by. I'm bring serious to say this jack. Man
You gotta say your peace. To the fake back stabbers and not take it ******* back
Get clean and sober. Stay on track
With medication.
And watch how much fakeness your closest friends shape shift and react
Funny stuff aside.
Manas really great with that.
She took two dumb ******* crazy rats.
Caged in habitat. And made them slay a crazy rap....than slaughtered them for science. Donated their *******. To science. Experiment gone violent.
She's not ok with that.
Karmin is an angel.
Thinks she names all that.
Inside her head. A secret undercover braniac.
And Riley is an amazing man.
Talented and brave as stan
But I didn't tell you.
Stan is my fan name.
When I'm ****** mister nameless slim shadey type of ****. To some gangster jams....
Grandma Gisele is a thank you mam
Do you actually spank the ham
Like Christmas web cam. Food. ****.
Christmas day. You can thank my hand....
Richard gablehouse. Was pregnant with a chicken glaze.
He undressed food so many different ways
Little booties on the Christmas bird.
Bout to expose those little legs...
Oh its just humor ***** slip off the case.
I love my dad yo pieces.
There's a reason I'm a little raged.
No one seen the terrifying look
He harbored just for me.
When I didn't obey....
We got over all that.
Cleared that **** away
We had to make up. Every 15 seconds
New fight but its a different day
I feel bad. But hey its meant this way...
Alex Fanta was in debt to native medicine that made him good and gay...
His wood is great... i hear Scott hedge brag. You thought I didn't love you guys cmon. Don't be dumb AND gay
I woulda say.
She should stayed.
But cherry your a woman stain.
You look like hulk had a vasectomy and you got the ******* stuff that hangs...
Just kidding love you babe. I'm just trying to be funny.
Scare you
Cherry you ******* dummy.
I'll always provide for you with money.
But you gotta be so ******* stun. You refuse me rights. To my kids who absolutely love me.
I said ill always take care of you.
But your going to have to stop being a dummy....
Derek Moore you mega *******.
Your nieces self  esteem is ripped. And all your other kiddies jeans. *** you had to be inside  it you ******* *******...... go eat a demons ****.. id rather be a traffic cone in **** t least you'd see my **** than be your only reason why you didn't commit suicide when God agreed with it..  at least coulda did it for the ones you loved. I know thats fuckinv mean and **** but next time you **** with me jm going to have you seeing ****...
Cherry entire family. Hold up freeze it quick. While we're out and telling secrets quick.
I ****** Ashley's boyfridnds ***** yep. At least before you two met.
I did alot of foolish ****.....
Corsette and lingerie. And of course his *** stain ruined it...
Just kidding couldnt get him off. Or even fit it in. No room and ****.
He got the hugest ****.... don't know how you don't get split in two and ****... ******* ruined *****
Or at least get **** sized bruises on your ***** and hips.
Whatever not 100 percent certain but I hope if it is true you say your cool with it.....
Dylan Hutchison I love you but you never grew up actually knowing me.
You kids **** on your dad. I know it hurt you but it had broken me...
I get it he was drunk and druggy.
But he loved you two so devotely.
Just wish you had some time.
While he was living to start showing me. You were open to him emotionally
I get it. You were busy.  Coulda sent him via email. artwork dreams and poetry... so he knows how much you truly love him.
Beneath the disconnection. Tell him how bad a place your feeling come from...
Moving on. Forget deceased.
There's still a bunch of dumb *****.
Reese swampy drop your pants punchline like 8 mile at the lunch truck...
Lyssa let's get frisky. While your cats lick my nuts like going down after 60 rounds suffering they ******* punch drunk....

Sha you **** ***** I still got a **** lets make it happen...
Prefer dudes. But who's to say a little **** show couldn't happen.
We actually had a ******* with hot muscled Travis.
We got his **** in me my **** in you
And did a little jordan sandwich...
Sheldon chartrand I masturbated thinking of you ******* me ******* it....
You could slam the pack of shingles fast. So **** black and tanned yep...
Thought about your fast hands so hot like a math lab with the Cranstons...
Exploding for Chris Roan.. who?? Chris roan... a sickness no different from cancer... i felt so much love for you. But had no ******* hope or answers... you didn't know I was this way inside. Just the way God had to plan it.... you coulda made me feel included though with out you I couldn't understand it.....theres was just this separation. Anxiety. And sadness...renuka your my favorite. Of all my mental workers...
I came to you a creep hell bent on ******. And you repurposed my inside sanity. Restoring me to perfect...
Cleared my name to child service workers..
And did me such a service...
Ryan too and garry. At least you guys live through your purpose...
Helping hand and gentle hands.
Reach every different person..
Liseanne your ******* gorgeous.
Picture perfect
**** enormous... but you set me up for stis in your quest to send off young Brianna... i got chaffing in my ****.
*** you hooked her up with more dudes. Than rihanna...
In the back of your mini van or suv can't stand it but the infection had been managed...
Sorry rihanna... I love uou your thr best so beautiful can hardly stand it
I'm rambling oh yeah let me be candid. About Travis. Matron was his last name. And he smoked crack so ******* savage.. child psychologist slash roofer. I actually believed you in a panic... don't know who's stupider. The dude who won the poker game for hoarding the titanic or the dude that.
Lost his pride and got his poker *** kicked...
Jade my truest form of poetry in nervous flight.
My girl of mine.
My nervous rhymes.
Could not muster up at courage time..
Your my first love.
For a reason the best is always first in line..
But I ****** and hurt your mind...
With my words and worthless spine..
You deserve so much in life.
I hope you know I think your worth our time...
Like a child is bursting with a nursery rhyme...
Okay its ******* ****** time...
Steven Irvine your a word so
***** it perturbs my mind.
Disturbed that I. Would like you to have courage. And turn your rap gift into words that rhyme and.
******* merk the earth this time...
Tyler moose you ***** line.
Sniffed off jet lis little ****...
You **** more ***** than Jason Bixby.
Holy **** he takes alot...
Its cool though. Say im sorry...
My motto is keep on trucking...
So much more ok so **** it..
I'll keep rambling on bout nothing....
Kayla gambler think we made a babie.. but you didn't tell me...
I hope whoever she belongs to that she's happy safe and healthy...
Nolan Robb I'm sorry for saying you ****** **** for crack. At the time my thought was that was wack. Until I sunk as low as that... current day just ****** an old guy for a sack of Molly and an open pack.... Daryl Marshall your a good dude... but your ****** up deep inside.. i can see it in your eyes... your scared of being wrong and aldo being right... you fear failure fear success. And you fly off the ******* handle... ive seen my dad get mad but jees loiuise he couldn't hold a candle...
You make Rambo look like prolapse ****** sagging in the sun...
Old ******* on your rage is much more destructive than a gun....
Jordan Marshall your a *** stain that should sat on Michelle's tongue....
Swallowed did a good job. Just ******* kidding bud.... your pretty ******* funny. And also pretty dumb ..
But at least your not like Tyler marsh shoving fisher price toys in his ***....
Oh please I got uou all beat and then some the world knows my story...
Would you call it boring... **** no.
But I no longer want the sea being stormy. I just wanna find one man after surgery get ***** and tilt his single axis planet into orbital retraction. Supernova. Every morning. ****** sweaty pores. From ***** inter planetary pornscenes.. but first I gotta morph. Into a woman so I feel more like my self inside. Its more rewarding..
To not ignore your thoughts. To have some wants. Take off early system warnings. Relax. And dream of rap gods. Jesus. And the last 15 years of poor me...



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