you told me you worry
you're not really good
if you're drawn to bad people
were you wondering why you ever liked me in the first place?
old fashioned cigars
the size of your fist
and knuckles bruised
the colors of the side of your neck when i kiss you
waiting for your own lungs to tar
and to trade the colors infused
in your neck
for a pair
just like mine
you don't want to be kissed anymore
you want to start kissing
waiting for someone to
til your skin molts
and your bones tingle
but you have to stop waiting
to teach you what that's like
we're all villains anyway
you're not really good
if you're drawn to bad
why do you think you were drawn there in the first place?
but i have something to tell you
from one villain
morals come from heaven
because no one has a conscious
so i'll play the villain for you
kiss necks till they're bruised
maybe throw a punch or two
and when you finally realize
your definition of bad
love, tar lungs, and
i only ever punch holes
you victimized sadness
and after you read this poem
i want you to tell me
can you even give me a clear definition of bad anymore?
The sweet and salty tang of ocean foam
The free smell of freshly cut grass
And lemonade made fresh from the lemon trees in the yard
The smell of glue and ink on paper
The soft sound of pages turning and coffee brewing
The thousand colors of illustrations
The quiet promise of a book missing its cover
The heavy taste of honey in the mornings
The bright, spicy smell of freshly picked apples
The tangy reward of apple cider as the nights cool
The laughter that fills the air after a long day of harvest
The love and comfortable silences of family
The chaos of a dinner table in the evening
The excitement of holiday baking
The curious wonder of a walk through the woods
The warmth of a fire during the winter
The value of a hard days work
The stories of war and childhood told during the storm
The calluses on my papa’s hands
The scars that my grandpapa wore proudly
The smile lines that my grandmamma let be seen so easily
The lessons that my mum gave us everyday
The gift of a childhood friend
The adventures only children can have
The risk of sneaking out when everything is quiet
The quiet suffering of a friend in pain
The loss of what I held closest to my heart
One stroke at a time
The image of me growing better and more detailed each day
Drawn with the experiences of family and learned morals
The Past of those who had lived life for longer than I had
Giving me depth and value
My own mistakes make me original
A beam of swirling light in the heart of the city
As families flee for their lives
Lightning, fire, explosions
Cars being flipped, debris everywhere
Lives taken, just to take
Evil has consumed the city
And its flame seems ever burning
A shock to the corrupted nerves of the city
Goodness and virtue battle the tyranny
But are put in the ground
Left in the rain and forgotten
Why must there be good and evil
It only causes pain
The division, the knowledge, the temptation and the fear
Holy rain fall on me
On these skid marked streets and grow a rose
Red as the blood we all hold
Push my whispered wishes toward your ear
Their full of desperation and curiosity
I trade you the morals, my honor and all I hold true
For all of this evil to be drained from my home
For without the darkness there’s is no need for light
And the ever spirit can rest and the world can flow as intended
So fly high red rose
Gather energy from the land and see
Chant the sacred words and flush this place
Flashing implosion of energy silence the streets
The sun in the eyes of the saved
The children can sing once more
And we can all be as innocent as the children
May the sun forever shine
Guilt free and enlightened they give thanks
Their lives renewed and cleared
Praise the rain drop, praise the rose it has cultivated
Hold it high, in the highest power
They give their lives for the flower
The live their lives for the flower
They only know it to be the truth
For security they go to the plant
But now their freedom belongs to the flower, instead of their own fears and temptations
All hope gone
The flower promised to delete all evil
But the flower itself is wicked
Draining lives and giving false hope to those in fear of the world and themselves
Ignorance is all I see
The love of being able to create something and understand it
The hate of being unable to destroy everything you don’t understand
Cry life look at today you’ll soon know
Wit out the darkness we wouldn’t need light to see
Without the light there would be no darkness to hide what must be seen
Without both there is nothing to see
The universe over my head
I see Life grows, flows and goes
Good or bad it pushes through
The goodness should not be your guiding light
Nor should the badness
You yourself must chose your own path for it is your choice and yours alone
And that is what life is about
The choices we make cause the earth to spin and balance perfectly
Do not let anyone or anything dictate your life
Black bears on the sidewalk huffing
Wild cats in the cold prowling
A monster chained to the lies of the town
The tragedy of his father
Decaying on the winter’s avenue
He ran out of the city
He headed north across state lines
Leaving destruction and annihilation behind
Never taking one single look back
One afternoon he rose in a busted motel
With an unfamiliar beast snoring next to him
Blood dripped from its yellow hide
Are we all here?
The values and morals we all held dear now gone
The coyote was jet black
Frizzed and starving
And I was too frightened to even look
The blankets were steaming locks
And my love was next to me
So beautiful my love
Her long black hair
Her soft sweet tasting skin
Hurry out the door run
She’s on her way
I cannot survive this, every time she moves in closer
I allow my wall to come down
Feel the cold fear on the back of my neck
The howl of the coyote in the distance
What’s your pleasure, what’s your pain?
Are you clever, are you sane
You don’t know, now it seems
That my soul cannot be tamed
The taste of fame, this is new
Now you thrive, now you lose
Now you fear the rule of two
Just play your role and make it through
Way back in the universal mind
The answers to ancient riddles you shall find
The sun burns endlessly on the city
Above and beyond its limits
And the mazes of the riverbed
Underneath the silent other worldly shadows of
Weary mountain men, on the cliff just over there
Wild dogs congregating
Hieroglyphics, fallout shelters, new advancements in self awareness
Every home repeats a cycle
Animal’s cage lock until show time
Now rest, rest
Carpet stains, cracks in the windows
Sweep the dust under the carpets
Many affairs stick on these sheets
Virginities lost in the comforter
The dead still linger here
Don’t pause or make one false move
My suitcase and briefcase are on the floor
We’re heading for the door
And we’re leaving now
And I guess you’re coming with me
She can’t lift the curse
I am not the one
There are a certain few who can
Dragged against my will
Crowd is screaming kill
Savages and thieves
Brining victims to their knees
The innocent come but never leave
Come with me
Come with me
Just trust me
We hid from the swarm of nonsense and swill
The rich hide in their mansions in fear
The dead are rotting and no one cares
And we’re just lucky to be left alive
Come with me
Come with me
Just trust me
Life is cut short cause he went too far
We should have seen it from the start
He got in front of the wheel of a car
I suppose I missed that part
Some people live without faith
Then the pastors daughter went and got raped
By some one that came from the unknown
Then and there the answer was shown
I will make you mine
It was the blacked coyote
This chaos is not fantasy
We hurried home
Past the lakes and the roads
We returned home from
Our tales so tall
We came home from
Laconia and Meredith
We came home from
El passo disillusioned
And I won’t give you
The keys to the empire
I will give you
A story to listen to
Fighting winds into submission
For ten years I tried
To live on the island of Elba
The mind games I played there
Now I have returned
To the place of freedom, bravery and wisdom
Mother, father of the west
Which of you shall join the celebration?
Now morning comes with her brilliant glow
Today we shall go back to the time I was orphaned
I’m finally prepared to come to terms with my origins
During a dawn show down
We’re interrupting the last supper
They’re screaming, demanding our surrender
And they almost caught me
But I’m like water in the crack
Flooding through your gullibility
Things are going to change
So begin your final chant
No but you won’t
You don’t know how or why your were made
No you don’t
To0 little for your sake
A stab in the heart a mercy killing
But I won’t
Demeanor is jaded
Morals are gone
Insults are filler
You always give up
Nobody sees you mutilate yourself
Now you’re hanging yourself
You missed the service it isn’t fair
But I was there or was it just a dream
I pity you
You’ll never understand
You will never
I will never
I want to make this clear
You get what you give live and let live
No but you wont
So you hate yourself
I’ll see you in hell
You can hear the voices of our peers being silenced, ignored, shunned and distorted.
Staggering out of their bedroom doorways to the street corner to score a dime bag.
Bright, insightful kandi kids freezing in search of warmth from something to believe in that will make them look forward to see another day.
Where our economy has made financial prudence clear when talking about education, yet price tags of university tuitions skyrocket.
The refused, the ones with hope but no money or scholarships; tread the streets with the echoes of electro house pulsing in their skulls.
Those who strip themselves down and shred their own morals to scraps just to find themselves and to see their own limitations.
Searching for answers to the unknown, to ascertain what they are, who they are and why.
Timid in high school, pushed along with nothing and no one to put their creative vigor into.
The squeakiest wheels that were never even considered to be given a good greasing.
Faculties giving them lethargic hellos on the first day of school, bestowing celebrated goodbyes to them on graduation day, diplomas in hand.
Now are the ones slumped over in a lackadaisical position contemplating how they can afford an education.
They work eight to ten at seven twenty five an hour Monday to Friday and weekends staying in as not to blow their earnings.
Those who commute to university and balance a job with it, I applaud you.
The bewilderment of adulthood, the abundance of pressure and responsibility.
Awakened from nightmares of lost opportunities, missed trains and lost contacts.
To step out of bed and splash water onto a severely distressed face and staring into a mirror with a despairing look.
Then hoping a bus to Garfield to bring back weight for all the embryonic smokers not yet at the point of make or break, just save up enough to pave my own way.
Gazing at the town on a roof top, chugging down the tenth…no…twelfth beer of the night wondering how this all happened.
Wild sensations of kissing an attractive stranger, the rush of touching on things never felt, tasting pleasures only the lucky have known.
The passionate, yet dissolute yearning for that ever eluding orgasmic adrenaline. Pounding, Pounding, Pounding until the culmination of energy has come.
Flip sided to those dizzying, tear jerking thoughts of suicide, annihilation of ones being, the contradictions of their faith in themselves and the people around them.
Unexplainable waves of anxiety crashing onto the shore of a diminutive island of optimism
Striving to look past the panic, the gloominess and fury that may or may not be present. But to remain composed and press forward to what awaits them.
Coffee keeps them going. Cup after cup, late night cramming every bit they can; into their caffeine driven psyches until the indisputable crash and failure.
Packs and packs of menthol cigarettes to calm their rattling nerves but at the same time killing them slowly. Their lives will seem shorter than the time it took to finish one bogey when death is near.
Marijuana induced ventures to run down burger shacks, laughing hysterical in the car ride, eyes heavy with a most ridiculous elastic grim extending from ear to ear. While inside millions of thoughts and realizations of consciously simple thoughts and troubles become clear and unproblematic. So the joy is mirrored outside in.
LSD trips in Petruska dancing and singing in the rain! Making music, making love; playing pretend and creating art. Becoming a family while kicking back under the warmth of an illuminated tree.
MDMA streaming through the body, everything is as it should be, beautiful, lovely to touch, wondrous to stroke, marvelous to move. To contact and connect, converse and converge with the dwelling desire to share what you feel with everyone for it would be selfish and unpleasant to keep it in.
Mushrooms oh the emotional overflow I need not say more but damn.
The there are over the counter candies, oxycodone, oxycotin and codone. Xanax, painkillers and antidepressants. Ups, downs, side ways and backwards.
Selling addiction and dependency legally to kids. Making heroine, cocaine and speed easily obtainable to kids. Changing the names and giving out prescriptions so that the kids parents can feel like their actually helping their children but are subconsciously making it easier on them because they cannot handle they way their children actually are. Some parents actually do want help their kids and feel it is the only way, I wish it wasn’t so. Becoming zombies, mindless addicts before they even start to mature into puberty.
Oh, the monotonous, mundane rituals and agendas of our lives. School, work, sleep eat, the sluggish schedules and repetitions of yesterdays conversations and redundancy of itineraries we had plotted months prior.
Same people, the constant faces of boredom, groans of apathy and the fear of complacency.
We talk about how hum drum out lives have become and what we could to put some color in our world but don’t.
We speak of how unfair the system us but ultimately confuse ourselves and everyone else due to lack or organization and detcation so nothing is changed.
We speak of breath taking women we want to share sexual fantasies with but can’t even muster enough courage to send a trivial friend request.
Texting away for hours trying to court those who now occupy our minds and possess our hearts hoping they may allow us to acquire their attention and affection. Calling them only to receive futile dial tones knowing they are being evaded.
Weeping on and on for seemingly endless time frames of a dilapidated relationship that was so strained that a miniscule breeze could cause it to collapse but still clinging to every memory as if they were vital hieroglyphics depicting your very essence.
Brilliant theories blurted out in a drunken stupor.
Ingenious hypothesis shrouded in marijuana smoked out room.
Remembrance of friends long gone.
The marines, the navy.
The casualties of drug addiction.
The conquerors or their afflictions.
The insane locked away on the flight deck never to be seen again.
Teenage mothers unsure of themselves, abandoned by their families for they believe that they brought fictional shame upon the family’s name. The fate of the child is unclear but the mother’s everlasting love shines through any obscurities in its way.
Dear mother of the new born winter’s moon may the aura of life protect you and your baby.
The father gone without a trace.
He will never know his daughter.
And it will haunt him forever.
Parents bringing up their kids with values and morals, god fearing, devil worshiping, mantras and meditation. Psalms, the Holy Quran, The Bhagavad Gita. Islamic anecdotes and Jewish parables.
The names all different
The message the same
The stories unlike
Kabala, scientology and wiccans
Amish and Mormons
All spate paths that intertwine and runoff each other then pool into the plateau of eternal life.
But do we have faith in our country, our government?
They do not have faith in us. Cameras on every street corner, FBI agents staling social media, recordings of our personal lives. 4th amendment where have you gone?
We say farewell to Oresko the last veteran of the last great war. And revisit the Arab spring, Al-Assad’s soldiers opening fire on innocent protester, one hundred fifteen thousand lay dead. Bin laden dead, Hussein hanged, Gaddafi received every ounce of his comeuppance. War, terrorism, the fear of being attacked or is it an excuse to deplete these countries of their natural resources like we’ve done our own? Throwing trillions of dollars to keep the murder machine cranking away, taxes, pensions, credit scores, insurance and annuities all cogs in the convoluted contraptions plight.
My dear friend contemplates this every night laying in bed, fetal position; the anxiety if having to be a part of this.
Falling apart on the inside but on the outside, an Adonis, playboy, Casanova wanna be. Who worshiped the almighty dollar, gripping it so tightly until it made change, drank until he had his fill falling face first into the snow. The guy who lead on legions of clueless girls wearing their hearts on their sleeves not knowing he had a girlfriend the entire time. Arranging secret meetings in hidden gardens, streaking into the early morning. Driving to Ewing in his yellow Mustang to woo a sado masochistic girl. The chains and whips do nothing to him he is already numbed by the thrill. Then he comes home, lays in bed until one, with no job and having people pay for his meals.
He knows what he does and who he is wrong. He recites and regurgitates excuses endlessly. He cries because he knows he is weak, he knows he must fix himself. I sit on the edge of myself with my fingers crossed hoping maybe, maybe he will set himself straight.
My chum who can talk his way out of any confrontation and into a woman’s panties. Multitudes of amorous affairs in backrooms, backseats, front rows of movies theaters. Selfish, boastful and ignorant, yet woman fling themselves at him like catapulted boulders over a medieval battle field just to say hello. These girls blind to see what going on, for their eyes were taken by low self esteem. A need to be accepted, to feel wanted even only for fifteen minutes. Poor self image, daddy issues, anorexic razor blade slicing sirens screaming on about counted calories and social status. Their uncontrollable mental breakdowns and emotional collapse. Their uncles who raped them, their parents who split up and confusing their definition of love and loyalty for the rest of their lives. Broken homes, domestic abuse and raised voices, sending jolts of fright into the young girl’s fragile minds. I send my sorrows to you ladies, to see such beautiful creatures suffer then be used and thrown away with the condom that was just thrust deep into their loins.
Then I see women and men of marvelous stature, romantic in the streets holding everyone and everything in high regards. Finding beauty in anything and anyone. Enjoying every second as if the rapture was over head eating exotic foods from unheard of countries and cultures. Bouncing to the sound of whimsical , reverb ricochets and sense stimulating music. Huffing inspiration to creative something out of thin air. Dancing to retired jazz and swing albums as if no time had past since their conception. Wearing bold colors and patterns, thrifty leather shoes or suede.
Dawning pre-owned blazers because why spend hundreds of dollars on new clothes just to look good but feel uncomfortable with a hole in your pocket. Dressing up but dressing down, so class yet urban I love it, chino, pea coats and flannels so simple but chic.
At night they go to underground dens, sweaty bodies, loud music and freedom. Expressive manifestations glowing fueled with MDMA and other substances to further their enjoyment of the dark glorious occasion. Sporting colorful bracelets, not watches for time is of no concern to them, they have all eternity they know that.
Going to book stores, coffee shops just to have some peace of mind and a moment of silence to themselves so that can weave the tapestry of imaginative innovation. Writing their own versions of the same story, endless doors of perception, reading news papers and taking it with a grain of salt. Watching the news on TV with a hand full of salt. Searching for the real story so they can know if the world they all live in is actually safe.
She who made her own way breaking hearts, rolling blunts and making deals. The flower child of the modern age, left the Rainey days in search of radiant sunshine, idealistic. Reality was subjective, purple dyed hair, multicolored sweater with sandals on her feet. A ten inch bowl with bud from California packed in tightly. Coming from Dumont to Bergenfeild then on to Philly to Mount Vernon. Off to Astoria and the Heights. Now to Sweden laying in the grassy plains below the mountains. Good for you my friend whom I have loved, may fortunes of unsullied joy come to you and all you meet.
Since you’ve left I have encountered drunken burley firemen just trying to have a good time. Pounding down Pabst Blue Ribbon as if it were water; as if it were good tasting beer. But heroes none the less.
EMTs, young eighteen years old high school graduates, saving lives reviving people who are a mere one inch close to death.
Sport stars getting scholarships thanks to their superior skills and strength.
Striking beauty school students who are into making the people of this world a little bit more beautiful on the outside.
All these people, successful, doing things. Departing to their desired destinations. I see inside them, they carry baggage, loneliness and insecurities. I can feel their guilt slowing them down. All have their loads but it’s the way they carry them that shows who they really are. And to me their all gems.
Not far in Paterson I watch the junkies limping across busy winding street, perusing a severely needed fix. “Diesel!” they shout to no one, asking for spare change and if bold enough a ride to a shady sketchy place. I give them a dollar and politely decline. They’ll die without it, it’s like eating glass it does no good for any of us anyway. Vomiting up bile and blood, twitches and shivers are all you feel when it’s not in you. They cannot stop, they need help. Why not help them instead of “assisting” those who are homosexual? Cleansing so they can be granted entry to the kingdom of God. Looking down on people who have found love and understanding and a deep attraction to others who just so happen to share alike genitals.
Narrow minded uproars about the spread of AIDS, nonsense! The puritanical onslaught of those who want nothing more than the rest of us, love. Gay, homo, faggot, queer, how about kind, funny, genuine human being? The right to be married and divorce should be an option for everyone to enjoy. The strains and hardships of matrimony are yours if you want them. If you don’t agree don’t hate or harm just allow them to be peacefully. Same goes for anything for that matter, Jehovahs going door to door, Mormons from Burbanks. New ideas are never a bad thing, they’re not a waste of time. On average you have about eighty years to mull over your options.
Some people don’t live long enough to do so, cancer is on the rise, blood diseases, sexual diseases, natural disasters coming right out of left field and blindsiding the innocent bystanders of both hemispheres. Some go through life handicapped, autism is apparent these days. Schizophrenia, asperburgers, ADD and ADHD. Some lose their golden memories of their many valuable years or some cant remember whatever transpired only a few moments ago. Some go through life delusional or bipolar. Some cant even sleep at night but they still carry one. And if assistance is needed it is our job as a race to help our brothers and sisters, no one deserves to be excluded from the gala of life. The be denied by society and pumped with brightly colored pills from doctors promising a cure but prescribing a crutch.
Finding solace in sincerity.
The serendipity of it all hasn’t been uncovered and that keeps me going.
“Radiate boundless love towards the entire world above, below and across. Un hindered without ill will without enmity.” Oh Buddha the truth as it ever was.
Who is he who keeps these thoughts from the conscious minds of the population?
Who is it that distracts us from the humbling beauty and overwhelming devastation of this place of existence we’re in?
It’s they who do under the table parlor trick behind our backs.
Those who broadcast mind numbing so called reality TV shows without an underlying value or meaning.
Those who produce music, proclaiming extravagance to be the end all be all gluttonous goal we all should aim to achieve.
And those who turn noble causes into money making scams and defile pure ideas.
And of course those who give false promises of easily obtained bright futures, those who don’t care, those who steal, kill, curse, bad mouth and lie. But still manage to get elected into positions that more or less decide out fates. Monsters, demons, banshees howling inconsequential worries and leaving us deaf to hear the real issues.
The heartless selfish people who make the thoughtless decision to have abortions because they lacked the self control to take the time to get protection and do not want to deal with their consequences, feeling no guilt throwing away what is the very make up of life and love they had created themselves! Although there are those who do so for they cannot support what they have created and give it a life they deserve, I can understand but I still weep but I empathize with such tragic forked road decisions.
Mystery men raping innocent home walkers and killing them or leaving them to live their lives in pain and shame. We can make our own trouble but we can also undo them. No one has a right o put hardships upon us and if so at least I will fight.
Who are the ones to look for when guidance and facts are needed? Look to the poor, the unfortunate poverty stricken open eyed weary ones. They’ll tell you how things look at from t he bottom of the hill. Ask the ravers and hipsters, college students they tell you how it is when climbing the hill. Joyous, miraculous realizations illuminating the visions of the mind. Growing fields of love and dreams. Weeding out the falsehoods with ease.
Ask the children, so innocent and naïve, giving a simple yet meaningful perspective. Same as the geriatric wise ones who time wears thin. Both have intrinsic values and wants.
Talk to the lustful lovers they can tell you how in one moment a tangent can be created in one foul swoop. Or the leathered whip weilding, dominant/submissive practitioners of pain. They’ll show you the exquisiteness of pain and bondage, domination and twisted, alternative pleasures. The nine to fivers commuting as if their lives depend on it…and it does! They’ll tell you how precious every minute of every day is. The drug dealers, the drunks have outlandish perspectives, yes but they have merit all their own.
The mentally unstable, chemically unbalanced children of the sun.
The soldiers, parents of struggle. Or go to the metaphysical; God, Ganesh, Vishnu, Shiva, Gahandi, the Dali Llama. Ancient prophecies shed light on your darkest days.
Travelers have been to many places, come across many persons, seen many things. Interview a man from Munich, see what he has to say.
Confront a delinquent or a deviant, they have voices too.
We all come together in this wild weird universe where everything is relative. Where everything happens for a reason but without a single motive. A place where explanations and ambiguity go hand in hand. To achieve balance, understanding, self awareness, self confidence and control of emotion and thought; endless unconditional love and the notion to stand up for ones self must be acquired. Equality and tranquility flowing effervescently across the cosmos. No separation or bigotry no thought of color, race or creed, color and background. With all our senses heightened to see all the truth in the world, to smell the sweet aroma of familiar places, to feel the cool wind on a warm day, to taste the sweet and sour flavors that make up a day. And to hear all the wondrous sounds around us music, laughter, crying, honesty, lies and to distinguish between them without having to look.
The ability to articulate all you’ve seen and heard. Everything you’ve tasted and smelled and touched. The emotions felt, the thoughts you’ve gone over and over time after time. The eradication of grief and suffering. Heartbreak, loss and demolishing surprise. All the memories and people you’ve met there. The places you’ve traveled to, the relationships built and destroyed. The lessons learned or forgotten or maybe the ones haven’t grasped just yet they are you! They are us! All the same yet different to create a mixture of assorted frequencies and combinations of destines and the trails that take us their! So rise my friends Rise! RISE!
You left me, untitled and unsafe.
I hope you can forgive me.
I never will.
There have been ten people like you that I have tried to help.
I forgive you.
At first, I hated you.
We were so close.
You just left me. All alone.
I know you never meant to hurt me. You thought it was for the best.
What you don't know is that every time you dragged that blade across your wrist you dragged it across mine too.
Your plague has pained so many.
What you don't realize,
Maybe you do now...
I don't know...
What you didn't realize is that when you killed yourself, you took part of me with you.
Each night I relive that moment.
The moment you hung us,
feet dangling just inches above the ground,
we feel weightless,
it's really the weight being ripped away from our shoulders.
The moment when we swallowed a handful of those brightly colored tablets.
Bodies convulsing as we reject them.
The brain still fights to remain.
I relive that moment when we put that barrel in our mouths.
Our brains, our emotions, our passion.
Across the walls, floor and bed.
The hole in our ceiling remains unpatched because nobody can fix the pain that that hole shows.
You were right...there.
I could feel you leave.
I could feel a part of me ripped away from me like a newborn from the mothers arms.
You never really left, though, did you?
You just dropped out.
My friends, you stand with me today as if it were still our last.
My arms reach out to show you how much I've missed you.
But they can't.
Every slice across my veins, every drop of blood is a tribute to you.
Maybe that's how I want to tell you that I'm sorry.
I still see you here.
I see you in my dreams,
my eyelids like curtains on this very stage.
I see you on my arms.
I'm sorry that I couldn't help you.
I'm sorry for everything.
I am not who I used to be now.
You have taught me morals.
You have taught me to love like no tomorrow.
You have taught me to love myself because that's your last surviving vessel.
I was meant to live in this constant pain.
Otherwise I would have died the eight times that I had tried.
I tried your method of problem solving.
You do something...
Something that I never could.
You keep me alive when all I ever wanted was to be with all of you.
My body aches from the parts that you stole away.
My head to replace yours.
Shattered across infinity.
My neck to hold it up.
It beats for you.
I have died ten times over.
I am pieced back together as a rag doll is.
None of this was ever your fault though.
I didn't stop you when I needed to.
I blame myself for the deaths of ten people.
I wasn't their reason
I didn't kill them.
I just didn't...
Our minds are what create our stress, our doubt, our fear, our anxiety, our questions. More times than I can count have I wished for silence within just so I can see & hear clearly without any preconceived notions. I want to live my life through feeling! I don't want logic or "morals" to control my way of living... I want to act based on feelings, not based on what I think or what others think. I want my heart & my emotions to drive this soul of mine. Not many people do, which is why I know certain people were placed in my life. I'm sorry if at times my cluttered mind gets the best of me & creates chaos, but I swear it's only bc this fist of blood that pounds in my chest is begging to take over.
This generation is going to hell in a hand-basket.
And its something that cannot be denied.
Its not because of the sins.
People have always sinned,
We're sinners at heart.
Its not because of the gays,
They cant change your views,
And the world isn't growing up gay.
This generation is going to hell because we are lost.
Somehow morals were not enforced,
Only taught and then forgotten.
We have a chance of being saved,
But we wont accept it.
There are a few,
Within our generation,
That have hope.
It is them,
And our parents,
That hold the key to our salvation.
We will be forever lost,
And on a one way street,
It's late, and I still know nothing about women.
They say that men have locked women up,
for all times, in all civilizations, in all lifestyles;
in one way or another locking away the soft things,
supposedly for their own protection....
maybe to break some kind of spell,
or, more likely...a fear.
But those men, on whom our gender might be judged,
never have tasted freedom as I have.
And for the men, who love other men:
it is probably easier for you.
Not socially, or politically, or overtly,
but poetically, romantically, truly.
Please don't misinterpret me, I say nothing of morals,
or religion...only Love.
And it really is hard for a man to Love a Woman,
someone or something so...dangerous.
Yes, dangerous to men who have to learn to be hard,
the hard way, dangerous to break down that fantasy.
There is a reason that most men are more hostile
towards women, than vice versa.
How strange, when you have so much more to lose,
than some misguided notion of superiority.
But this is what I want, this is what I need,
this tearing down and burning up.
These hands, this flesh, a vessel for fire and light;
I need your love, as the sun needs the night.