Jaylin was scared and detrimental -
with runaway scars,
his heavy breathing,
and the wolves chasing such a forgotten soul.
"I'm more afraid of death then before,
more afraid of the teeth ripping through my skull,
I have to end this dream.",
He said screaming, knowing it was but of no dream.
Is the end just above the harassing, or still just a mere speck waiting to be seen.
he screamed again, as the snow touched his face
- wishing his fellow friends could hear.
the mindless memories all over his body warned him.
It warned him he was still wanted by them.
Still yearned by the ones of which owned the forest.
"Jaylin, run! Run now!"
this wasn't his mind, but the mysteries' wind that ran next to him.
He heard it, but didn't know what it said until he saw them -
barking, running and almost screaming.
Jaylin stopped to listen to this screaming,
as if the screaming was the sound of a thousand ghosts that the Wolves killed.
Hearing all this he knew he wasn't the first.
"How could the wind know?,
Why are there some many voices in my head!?,
I don't want to be trapped like the other lost and forgotten souls!,
I don't want to be screaming in endless time of death !",
what was wished for was soon put away in the hollow sound of the universe.
they found him.
and the taste of death
where all things felt when Jaylin was bitten.
Bitten by The Wolves.
His eyes caught me
From a distance I see
Dyed hair of white and dark blue
Like his lips, coloured
Like his smile, I see
Deep within the surface,
Is his hidden secrets
Deep within the smile,
Is his hidden pain
His eyes caught me
Shaded with dark thick lines
Closer and closer , I feel
His hair swept to the side
Like his voice
Like his laugh, I hear
Echoing beneath me,
Is his soothing voice
Echoing beneath me,
Is his pure joy
Today is the day
The day he’ll feel alive
The day he might notice
The day I knew ,
I truly love him.
to love me back will be everything
What happened to the lines that I drew?
Black and sacred as the darkness in an ugly room
My special little hell mapped out neatly so I knew
Now tell me what on earth I should do
The sky is a sickeningly bright shade of blue
A backdrop for all the things that I slew, like
The limbless body hanging limp at the window
Now tell me what on earth I should do.
I dreamt a new line, wished the old one adieu
On my bed a mess of carcass is strewn
Blood gushes from the heart and white sheets are imbued
Now tell me what on earth I should do
Should I wear the red sheets in homage to you?
Your pit and your lips and the kiss misconstrued
I could fashion a pall and lie out of your view
Just tell me what on earth I should do.
Should I follow the line till it leads me to you?
Standing at its end so quiet and aloof
Within the stone walls that I cannot break through
Just tell me what on earth I should do
I will try, yes I must, for it may have been true
What I saw in my sleep and have since etched out too
The monster called hope who I fed till she grew
Now tell me what on earth I should do.
The embrace felt as warm as I wanted it to
But marks were left on my back, fat and black
You’ve been drawing your own lines, fresh and new.
Please tell me what on earth I should do.
when I was a young kid there was no room in our house so I had to sleep in the crawlspace above the house
It was winter and the crawlspace was uninsulated and there was
a small old space heater from the 1970’s that didn’t do anything
unless you were right up next to it. Sometimes I would get up
next to it and the sleeping bag would start to burn on the edges
melt. I’d wake up and move away from it because it would burn
the sleeping bag. One night it was very cold but I didn’t turn on
the heater because I didn’t want to melt a giant hole in the
sleeping bag for good and maybe burn myself. That night
while I was sleeping a brown recluse spider bit
me on the hip. It must crawled in to the sleeping
bag with me because it was cold
The next morning the bite had swollen
up like half a golf ball and in the middle was
a sort of purple spot where the skin was most affected by
necrosis and that spot already looked like it wanted to let
out all the pus inside. I knew that there was pus inside
because it had swollen so much and sort of felt solid but
squishy. I didn’t do anything about it that day
because I didn’t know what kind of a bite it was. The next night
was very cold because it was early february but I didn’t want to
melt my sleeping bag again. The temperature gauge in the crawl
space said it was 34 because some of the heat from the
house did leak in to the crawlspace because it was uninsulated.
I had lots of clothes on but only had a pair of baggy
jeans and my legs were bare under that. That night the
same spider must have crawled in to the sleeping bag
up my pants leg. The next morning the bite from two
nights before had gone to hell because I hadn’t done
anything to treat it right away and I had rolled on to
it the next night and it had turned yellow and purple
and the skin on the whole area was necrotic but on top
of the first bite was a second bite that had started to swell
up as well. I thought this was funny because I was young
and nasty stuff is funny when you’re young.
I sort of squeezed at the fleshy mass and a bit of
liquid came out but not a whole lot of liquid.
There was obviously an obstruction. So I took
a metal needle and heated it up with a lighter to
make it easier to pierce the skin. When it
was red hot I pushed right in to
the top of the hole where the purple was and
it started letting out little bits of pus. I wasn’t
satisfied with the amount it was producin
g but since the hole from the needle went in really deep
I figured a lot more would come out if I pushed on
either side of the lump. At first there was mostly
light red blood and some white pus that was watery
and it sort of ran out. No matter how hard
I pushed it only a little bit of puss would come out.
I left it alone but came back to it later on and by
this time a scab had formed over the top of the hole
. I ripped this off and continued to push on to the
sides of the lump which by this time had lost some
of its original form because the skin was dead
on and around the lump. It had caved in like little
indentations of my fingers where I had pressed
but no liquid came out. The second bite had taken
care of any skin on the first bite that might have
missed the necrosis and even it had its own little lump
coming out of the first. My entire leg was sore
because the muscle tissue was necrotic deep down.
By the next day the skin had died and changed in such a
way I never thought I would ever see a part of myself.
It had turned a dark yellow and the purple was a
solid purple that didn’t mix with the yellow. As
I scratched at it, the skin peeled off in layers and
I kept scratching at the skin and it kept peeling off.
It got to a point where I knew I could just bust
the whole thing open if I really squeezed at it and
it all just came out. The blood in the middle
was blackish and the pus was thick and lumpy
like oatmeal. There was lots and lots of it in there.
After that the spider bit me again on the same hip
but about a month later. By this time the first bites
had healed to an indented scar where the skin had healed
but not come back. The third bite wasn’t as bad as the first
but it still died like the first. Spiders are ok because they don’
t bite people who didn’t have it coming. As much as I’d like to
think I could have prevented that from happening I
would gladly let the spider in to my sleeping bag again
if it was cold but with no guarantee I wouldn’t roll on to it and I say this with warm feelings.
He was known as the local Mycophagist
In the dales, the woods and the hills,
What happened was sad, for he wasn’t so bad
Just a tad underdone, Toby Gills,
They say that the cord was around his neck,
He was born with a carroty mop,
And a pale white head, he was almost dead
When the doctor had called out ‘Stop!’
They cut the cord and they let him breathe,
The damage was already done,
The blood had been stopped to his carroty top
So they said that he’d always be dumb.
But he found a niche where the fungi creeps
And went out collecting the spore,
In a year or two he knew more than you
And the college Professor next door.
He studied his mushrooms with loving intent,
He knew about hen of the woods,
He knew about bracket and shaggy manes, magic
And paddy straw, they were the goods;
He fostered his lobster and hedgehog and oyster
And coral fungi and stinkhorns,
But didn’t discern between fly agarics
And toadstools that grew in the lawn.
He grew his spore in a deep, dark cellar
And sold to the folk who came by,
And never would judge between Widow Weller
And the ordinary witches of Rye,
He’d sell death caps, and pigskin puffballs
Not thinking to question them why,
Or who would be eating his laughing Jim’s
And whether they knew they would die.
The air was thick and the air was damp
And he fell in the dark one day,
Scattering toadstools into the air
And their spores had floated away,
He breathed the spores right into his lungs
For he hadn’t been wearing a mask,
But sucked them in right over his tongue
And they came to his lungs, at last.
I happened to see him out in the street
He was finding it hard to breathe,
He could only take a couple of steps
Then sit on the kerb, to heave,
I tried to help but he waved me away
And his eyes were yellow and cruel,
Then I saw what he’d thrown up on the kerb
Some yellow and red toadstools.
The man was a walking toadstool spore
They were popping up out of his hair,
Pushing their way though his carroty top
In a bid to get to the air,
And his skin was blotched like a puffball, he
Looked up at me, and he cried,
As a giant toadstool grew from his throat
And he lay on his side, and died.
David Lewis Paget
I fell into this hole that was too deep to climb out that I started shouting for help
Hope happened to pass by and peeking in, found me in hysterics and left
Telling me she will go and find help and some rope, then come back
To lift me out from this place, dark and cold
And left her twin - Despair to keep me company
He jumped in and told me his sister is a consummate liar, that she will not be coming back
He said that she knew I'd be stuck down here forever and just couldn't bear to tell me the truth and so lied
But he told me not to worry 'cause he was willing to help me dig my way out and so had jumped in
He says he will not leave my side (as if he could now that he's down here and not up there)
That the only way out was down and that we'll be best friends in no time
At least that's what he told me
The other day, Depression happened to peer over the hole because he heard the sound of someone digging
My best friend invited him for help and he jumped right in without a second thought before I could stop him
Now I listen to both of them chattering and laughing away, best friends forgotten, in this crowded hole
And in between telling me that I need to lighten up saying they were there to help me as they dig beneath my feet
It's been two months and a half since Despair jumped in to help me
And this hole has gotten so much deeper, thanks to Depression's tireless help
I wonder where Hope has gone and was she really what her brother told me
As I try holding all this dug up dirt up on my shoulders without falling
And no matter how I tell them to stop, her brother and and his friend won't stop their digging
They say we are getting very close to the other side of the world
I've been told the world is flat and if I believe it to be true
And if these two should dig their way to the bottom
Where will we fall? And how long? And what's down there?
And will Hope's helping hand ever reach me that far down?
I knew I had been waiting a lifetime to meet you
Because you are everything that I have ever wanted
There's something about the way you effortlessly
Set my soul on fire.
The sweet sound of your voice is like a song
That I have patiently waited to hear
For what feels like a century
Oh, my eternal piece of mind, could it be?
That you complete me
his eyes were blurred, half open
and constantly shifting, his mouth
a soft gash along his chin, his hand
twisting among the grey, wiry curls on his head
and with one arm along the seat behind him
he slouched, facing the doors
like an uncomfortable silence
like an awkward comment
like someone who didn’t belong
and yet i could see that he did
there on the bus at one in the morning
this man was at home, as he tried
to make eye contact with me and i turned
to the window instead
and the woman behind him moved
to the back of the bus as soon as she could
to escape his wayward, grasping fingers
and i felt pity for him
grey, gasping pity
pity that made my eyes travel back and forth
between the window and indoors
as, inexplicably, i tried to capture
the creature sitting there
and i watched his feet shift
as the bus rocked beneath us and somehow
i saw the world from his eyes, the shady seats
and the angular, beautiful people
each one passing him by
hands gripping the posts and avoiding his gaze
and his mind was swimming in amber liquid
i knew that, i saw it
plain as day, this man was drunk
and though when he met my eyes
my brow was furrowed, my face uninviting
inside, i felt that same aching pity
and i thought damn, i’ll make poetry
from this somehow
and perhaps the words are simple
but i’m sure it’s the first time
that anybody has ever put that man
down on a piece of paper
in full colour
This is my final goodbye to you. And I'm so sorry. I know I said that you would always have me. I know I promised that I would be waiting right here for you to come back to me. But outside, as the seasons passes countlessly, the air chilled me to the bone and the wind howled into my ears, shaking and beating my body into havoc. I'm not retreating; I'm moving forward.
Maybe I waited so long because I'm used to the abuse. It's all I have ever loved. And up till now, I believed it was all I deserved. I grew up never knowing love and so I ended up searching for it in all the wrong places. I'm afraid you're another misguided destination. But I don't really mean that. I guess. We were somewhat good for each other. If we hadn't met, neither of us would be in existence today. I still remember how you convinced me there is a reason to live on my 17th birthday. I was the one, despite your anger and will, that saved you from the damage you inflicted on yourself.
It's rather upsetting how clearly I can remember all of the good memories. How you were so truly in love with me before you even knew it. You treated me like the most beautiful and fascinating girl and for once in my life, I believed it. I really believed it. I miss it all. The nights that we stayed up, endlessly asking each other questions because we wanted to know every little detail. At 4 a.m. you apologized for keeping me up on a school night and I told you that I would much rather talk to you than sleep. And by your reaction, I knew you were not used to that and so tried from there on to make you feel as special as you truly are. Our first date, exploring downtown, you never let go of my hand. I had boyfriends before but...they never held my hand in public. And I thought that was the loveliest thing. And when you kissed me for the first time, or rather every time, every atom of my body electrified. The early mornings, under covers, you touched my skin so gently....But ever before we knew each other, when we just gazed at each other across campfires and crowded rooms, I knew I wasn't through with you. However, I'm afraid that time has arrived. I knew this time would eventually come, but nothing could have prepared me.
The happy moments may exist in distant memories, but this overwhelming pain, hatred, sadness, and desperation is constant proof of the reckless and apathetic wreckage you have inflicted. How you chose every single thing over me. Over us. Our relationship was such a joke. You will never love anything more than those damn chemicals in that fucking needle. I could never be close to you because that blonde cum covered bitch was between us from the start. And in the end, you acted as if this relationship was too much effort for you.
When you said goodbye, I knew it wasn't for the last time. We always find our way back to each other. But I have to close the door. I can't allow you to enter my life again. Although I love you to the ends of the earth, I have to start loving myself. No matter how difficult that may be. I'm sorry.
Te amo, mi novio.
It was strange almost as strange as Thanksgiving with Justin Bieber at his grandmother's house.
Yes I'm sure that wasn't the only thing getting stuffed that year.
Who doesn't enjoy being serenaded by their grandson as he's naked with his pick in one hand and
his dick in the other as he stands butt ball naked in the kitchen.
Thanks Canada your like a dirty girlfriend who instead of giving a great blowjob gave us herpes What do I expect from a country that also gave us maple syrup and call me maybe.
I know we just met and this sounds crazy but your countries music sucks so never call us okay.
I was alone in the Pub as usual hell what do you expect from a site that has a showcase yet has no more groups from which half of the showcases are named after .
Yeah the owner has that true modern day logic like having a music channel that only shows
reality show whores and knocked up bitches who complain about paying the bills yet are employed by the network yeah common sense it really is lost on stupid people.
I was having like half of a case when a hamster who shall remain unnamed due to she would
harm me if I spoke the name of which is not to be spoken of walked through the door.
Gonz set me up with a cold one I really need it.
Really hamster I never pegged you as a necrophilia kind of gal but to each his own
good thing I got the paper let me just check the obituaries and make some calls
You want something fresh off the highway or you more into cold cuts?
I know I'm going to hell but honestly did you expect good taste in reading this shit ?
Are you fucking nuts?
The agitated little hamster asked as she looked at me with anger and possible rape in her eye's.
Look I can always hope good thing I forgot my whistle.
Just give me a cold beer you pervert and that joke was tasteless really have you no respect for anything?
I looked at the hamster after handing her the beer and thought deeply and hard pulling my mental hair at the same time even though I don't have any don't ask.
It's my job to make tasteless jokes and be a pervert what you think the time clock on the walls for?
Um employees ?
Well yeah it used to be until they whole health care shit I swear I give my workers one meal a week and provide a perfectly good basement for them now I got to give them health care duh
if I paid my bills what would I drink with ?
My customer who remains anonymous to protect the safety of my balls.
Looked at me in disgust uh oh looks like I might be getting a spanking as well.
You really keep those poor people locked in the basement ?
Duh person I cant say your name there not real people there here illegally.
How can you say that I should call the cops on you .
The hamster was turning red and from the threat of calling in the fuzz I knew she must be
serious yet still I knew deep down she was just playing hard to get with her threats and restraining orders but enough with the foreplay hamsters.
Look I really don't see what the big deal is ?
You have people trapped in your basement like some dirt bag smuggler.
Now you hold on a minute hamster how dare you insult me I said in my grown up voice
I know I can act like a grown up shocking isn't it?
I was about to tell this hamster just what I really thought of people who take advantage of people
who just want a better life and exploit others and really preach some of that moral shit that sounds real good yet isn't what I think cause I'm truly a ruthless bastard.
When I stopped and saw the clock oh shit hold that thought I almost forgot to feed the basement people.
I reached under the bar and grabbed four cartons of cigarettes and a case of wine.
What in the hell you only give those poor people booze and cigarettes ?
Well duh there French what else would they want?
Just then a voice came up from the dungeon I mean basement of the pub gonzo more wine
you American swine I hate you yet still I applaud your efforts in destroying that vile
man child Selena Gomez .
Ahh you got love the French sure that strange little man may stay drunk on a girl drink and smoke like a chimney but even he hates shit pop music as much as me.
My one and only reader slash customer slash person I enjoy annoying sat in shock.
You are so fucked up .
I looked as I took my seat behind the bar that no longer exists because some people
who shouldn't be allowed out of there cage run the site into the like button ground.
Yes hamster I'm a little ruff around the edges but when you get to know me.
You realize behind all the insults and perverted bad humor .
I'm well I'm far worse than you could ever imagine.
We sat there swapping stories the drinks flowed the French man in the basement yelled
something in that strange language he spoke once I couldn't understand cause I
don't speak German.
It was a true night to remember except for the part I forgot duh!
It was growing closer and closer to closing time I mixed us both a good strong drink
yet with a soft side and heart of gold like a awesome hooker or that man tranny Kim Kardashian .
Well I guess better head out Gonz.
Aren't you feeling like your going to pass out .
Um no why ?
Dammit its really getting bad when you cant trust a good street dealer to quality
The hamster was headed out the door but before she left she turned and said.
Oh yeah and you might need to grab a pillow.
And then everything went black but not like in the NBA .
No indeed I was out like Charlie sheen after a really good coke binge when he used to be cool.
I awoke upon the floor alone cold and hurting in a area far more strange than fifty one
dammit man whya alien would travel across the galaxy only to corn hole rednecks and poetic madmen is beyond me but enough about what some owners of websites do in there off time.
Upon the bar sat the only cure for my troubles a double shot of good blended whiskey.
Next to it a note on a bar napkin .
Dear Gonz next time remember to remember which drink you spiked you dumbass .
I had to laugh and sit really funny the seat was a bit uncomfortable get your heads out of the gutter
children your almost as bad as me.
Until next time kids remember .
Good humor bad humor its just fucking a joke to begin with so lighten the fuck up.
Cheers and stay crazy.
And remember if it offends nobody forced you to read it to begin with.
Drinks on me cheers.