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Nov 2018 · 203
Monday Morning
what a waste Nov 2018
Anymore he's ****-poor,
an off-mood in it's final form.
A Monday morning set on rerun.
Somebody fetch the kid a coffin,
his serotonin is stretched thin.
Put his thinker on the block
and cure him with a swift chop.
He won't need it where he's going.
The cubicle smaller than a molecule,
and the fine print's never optional.
Nov 2018 · 205
Brute Force
what a waste Nov 2018
I keep the 59fifty with me,
crown fit with the flipped brim.
Grin situated like a grizzly's.
I'll put a ***** down quickly.
Clip him in the kidney like a fifth
then watch his miss switch teams.
Appease her til her knees hurt.
Sign a jersey, ergo the curb.
My door reads do not disturb.
Delete me if you feel the urge.
Make no mistake, I will not search.
This is scorched-earth antics at its worst,
no stone will be left unturned.
Smarter than your average oaf,
my art works like an Ork on coke.
Just because you lack a clue doesn't
mean the world must follow suit.
There's a thumb in your mouth, and you
wonder why the words won't come out.
Nov 2018 · 399
How To Kill A Quiet Person
what a waste Nov 2018
Bring me the bottom of a bottle.
Any old dusty, decrepit glass will do.
Stiffer the poison the better.
I've run out of ways of spelling s.o.s
and I want something real to last.
Love comes when you least expect,
but I've long since given up
and haven't found it yet.
Oct 2018 · 867
Zero Friends
what a waste Oct 2018
Zero friends but I got the T.V to binge
Red lens caving in, sofa surfing to the bitter end
Lovers flicker by like the rent that's spent
Better get to clicking 'fore the fantasies win

Skew my eyes with the waters of Parime
These two cents will do not a penny more, okay
I've long been dead, the grave sits in an ashtray
I don't need bread, I'll stay misplaced 'til I decay
Oct 2018 · 220
I Typed This With My Face
what a waste Oct 2018
**** sleeping.
It's 4 am and the windows sit tilted.
Feels like winter but it's the bone that splinters.
No snow outside just the woe of billions,
though still cold enough to uphold some liquor.
Orwell's vision - a fresh print - first edition.
I'm here to worship the hissing behind the television.
To slip in between the cracks of black and white
til I'm peddling end times like I want it done right.
Spare me a match and I'll bring the 'mite,
we can start where the litter lies.
Aug 2018 · 995
All I See is Grey
what a waste Aug 2018
Who am I kidding. Jabberjaw has withdrawn.
He couldn't paddle inland with an undertow so strong.
Now he's just another shark frantic for it all.
All hail the swarm impatient like confetti in a storm.
The honeybees are curious, I wonder when they'll charge.
The queen must've been too busy feasting on the hoard.
Their hearts riddled with tooth enamel like it was poured.
Dismantle me at my core. I no longer wan't it to work.
Aug 2018 · 1.6k
Playing Games
what a waste Aug 2018
They gave us some time to think about it,
but what's the use?
I knew it the moment your eyes met mine,
and the breeze came through
tipping me to my toes like the night.
Yes, I'm yours and you're mine.
**** possession, I just haven't figured
out the next best thing.
Baby, I'd like to live my life,
but what's the use
if it ain't you by my side.
Ooh, girl. With those baby blue queues
you'd never see me getting outa line.
Hypnotized. I'd wait a life time for the right time,
change tides like Poseidon or get you
extra cheese if that's something you needed.
They gave us some time to think about it,
but what's the use?
I knew it the second you smiled that white lie.
*******, can you make a broken man feel fine.
Jul 2018 · 1.4k
So it goes
what a waste Jul 2018
I wrote you out a letter
and I bet if it were to be measured
it'd reach right out and touch the heavens.
It spoke of sickness and pleaded forgiveness -
of riches and all the things that sat between us.  
I stamped you out a star, so you'd
never have to wander for the moon.
Sure it sounds silly when said out loud,
but inside there's nothing it can't soothe.
That's all I ever wanted for you.
You're more a goddess than any rocky body,
I should've told you sooner.
A mistake I'll regret forever.
I know there's no excuse.
I tied this noose and presented it like proof.
I say awful things to those who mean most
and keep quiet til they're distant down that road.
My words might not mean much,
but for me there's nothing more fitting than the truth.
I love you.
Jul 2018 · 183
A very strange time
what a waste Jul 2018
Aren't you proud now
I've swallowed all my pride
so you could say I was full of it
It tastes like whiskey or wine

I want more of it, but
music no longer moves me
and their words float through
scratching an itch that just isn't

Hello, can you hear me,
my dearest echo chamber
The game was fun, but the rules,
the rules I no longer remember

She's here with the longest stare
tapping at the glass without a care
For a second I would of sworn
since getting old I was still alive
Jun 2018 · 226
what a waste Jun 2018
No questions. It's head first.
The world's a chess board
and I'm just tryna get to expert.
You can't capture the castle,
that's not how this game works.
The moats filled with clones all
too eager to take ten on the throne.
Control ain't about wearing a crown.
Patience is a virtue, woodpusher.
The race ain't over 'til the fat lady falls.
Don't tiptoe past the unknown,
grab it by the throat and tear it inside out.
May 2018 · 171
Royal Blue Vans
what a waste May 2018
Sitting, picking at split ends,
fishing for volition in the deep end.
Twitching, itching skin past spent;
the Tinkerer's turning pen tips into trenches.
**** twigs, spit bricks til the crypt filled.
Sheer skill, no fill, spare me the semantics.
Hit the bench, kid, kick off the cool kicks.
These royal blue vans be too fierce.
Long live the worms, the devourers of dirt.
Here's to the ones molding the curve.

Your overlord's back, now pass me the torch.
Kick a door down like It's a word I'm after.
Craftier than those rats of Madagascar,
but I'd ditch the laughter, poetaster.
After all, you bow to a master.
Dig deep, DeadBeat's unleashed.
Good grief! His technique is Hulk green.
Guaranteed to knock you off your two left feet.
Whats wrong? Last I checked, talk was cheap.
Apr 2018 · 166
Mad Dumb
what a waste Apr 2018
Slumbering dummy, ya fumbling money.
Some of me wants it ******,
but they don't wanna see **** get ugly;
from rags to riches to rags, quickly.
I step with Death like Life bet against me.
If I had to guess, I'd say I ****** his Missus.
Goofy as all hell could be, still pulling hoes like sushi.
Grill 'em till I'm dead, this beat be the best.
On point to a flaw, It's the loneliest on top.
Apr 2018 · 263
what a waste Apr 2018
You are not summoning some young ****,
It’s Saitama or Cthulhu in a **** poor mood cuz
the peasant keep ******* up his voodoo.
But you knew that, didn’t you?
Yeah, I bet. In fact, let me check.
Yes, there’s that obvious lack of respect.
I’d recognize your cowardice object anywhere.
I acknowledge it and deflect. What’s next?
No thanks. Sounds like you need to detox anyway.
Mar 2018 · 171
The System
what a waste Mar 2018
Stress reliever?
Pour the liquor.
Dream bigger?
Pull the trigger.
Rusty the rowdiest.
King of the Tinkerers.
Grimmer than Grimnir.
Son, you’ll need a ringer.

Stress reliever?
I’ll skip the liquor.
I’d rather lick her.
Villainous like Victor.
No, sinister like Sam.
You slither.
I stand.
Praise Prometheus
or catch these hands.
Mar 2018 · 1.8k
A Twist of Liquor
what a waste Mar 2018
I’ve now seen this rerun some obscene sum.
Gone, I’m off staring at the sun a tad too long.
The part that focuses the fun was last seen wrong.
Worn, like the cliches you so casually parade.
Me? I got cataracts to the hate.
I’m dodging them cats,
while you’re stuck stalking their tracks.
Once again I’m late, but this time I think I’ll stay.

I could cut you with a blade of grass.
I’m nice.
Brigade both sides of The Crusades with a laugh.
I’m tight.
It’s all in the way you read the light,
but sometimes that sun be too bright.
Got drive though,
won’t stop 'til they say DeadBeat can write.
Mar 2018 · 186
Oh My
what a waste Mar 2018
Lately, things ain’t so great.
They got Pop’s plastered to a plate
and Mom’s off to the closet to contemplate
another foreign date with the ghosts of yesterday.
I’m tied to a train that’s stuck going straight and
I might have missed class the day they taught us greatness.
Case in point: I’m writing this **** instead of chasing changes.
Mar 2018 · 490
Makes Sense
what a waste Mar 2018
Let me put down the kaleidoscope.
Okay, I could plagiarize the moon
and they still wouldn’t give it a look.
I could literally hand them the sun
and they’d be there looking like,
"Are you ******* dumb?”
As a matter of fact, yes.
So that makes sense.
Where was I?
Oh, yeah. The rain.
It was there in the trees
beneath one dr0p-
my beloved bliss.
Mar 2018 · 139
what a waste Mar 2018
My skin started falling off again,
I could pick apart every ******* inch.
Gluttony’s got me gobbling guilt.
I’m swallowing forks.
Yeah, I know all roads run to an end.
I’m just trying to get to where they begin.
Indistinct? ****, I feel incomplete.
Partially extinct,
I’m pacing this here ditch deep.
Pass the pack then smash repeat.
I’m just trying to dream another dream,
regardless of the hour or who’s in need.
Let me sleep. Let me slumber.
Mar 2018 · 146
what a waste Mar 2018
It's just you and me now, kid.
Distilled til the fellowship could fill a pit.
I'm told to build, but honestly? **** a bridge.
I'd rather tilt a dam and watch the **** spill.
Splash - Flash the fastest, catch my drift?
Mar 2018 · 142
Count The Kid Out
what a waste Mar 2018
Broken open, the fountain's foaming.
His coping mechanisms are showing,
the chromatophores got him ghosting.
Boo! I'm out.
Mar 2018 · 177
what a waste Mar 2018
It’s like,
now that I’m high I haven’t the slightest.
I’m trying to write but the font feeling tired.
Word to the wise, I’m outa this mind.
Time to shine like the whole week whined.
Nocturnal like the sun been broke.
Look, It’s all I know.
Mar 2018 · 148
what a waste Mar 2018
He’s meddlesome like the specimens
knocking on his skeleton.
It’s beats over everything,
‘cept for a bit of Methamphetamine.
This dissident’s impenitent.
Rhythm sitting like a blueprint;
Building villages for the pilgrimage
then sinking ships fore they’re ever sent.
Quick, crack the casket, he lacks a cat nap.
His dreams got caught up in her fishnet.
It’s madness. It’s habit. Go ahead, ask Alice.
Feb 2018 · 149
King of Camelot
what a waste Feb 2018
I should be famous.
Yeah, I'm barefaced.
I think you're aimless.
The top is so spacious,
no elbows or vagrants.
Think spaceships.
**** it, add the chips.
My word arrangement's hotter
than the Devil's basement.
Catch me getting gazes,
I'm getting high off their faces.
**** it, I should be famous.
Feb 2018 · 135
what a waste Feb 2018
You look familiar.
I think I’ve seen you here before.
Perhaps you wore yourself a different face;
One of plastic, or perhaps it’s just mâché.
Either way, I’m still happy to see you.
Even if it is fake.
It’s been a while since I’ve felt okay.
I’m dying inside and have no one left to say,
“It’s but a day in the shade of many.”
I lay awake and cling to fleeting dreams
as if I myself could master their wings.
Maybe one day I’ll find the seam
they seem to keep on slipping through.
Who would want such a pathetic thing?
I’m a deadbeat and have been since birth.
The zombie boy’s alone in his own world,
chewing up a storm with his mangled throat.
Here I go again, talking to myself
like there’s a single ounce of hope.
Feb 2018 · 173
what a waste Feb 2018
I'm feeling tipsy again.
I been spinning and dribbling spit,
like there was a point between me and a win.
Half the time my head's in the clouds.
****, right now I'm thinking out loud.
Heaven's a crowd.
I'd rather sit it alone.
Hand in the shade,
all the way down to the bone.
Feb 2018 · 156
what a waste Feb 2018
I think I’m getting sick. I keep on heaving bits of ink
down this ***** ******* sink. I’d try to wash my hands,
but for me, ships just seem to sink. And where would I go?
Who would I be? Jack on some jolly ******* sea?
I’d rather die than live another day like a leech.
Put me beneath the weeds, I belong to the trees.
Feb 2018 · 160
what a waste Feb 2018
Every single second it’s another parsec.
I know I’m a wreck, but the least you could do is visit.
I’ll grab you a map, so long as you don’t look at the distance.
I promise you won’t miss it. What’s another car trip?
No, you won’t get carsick.  It’ll be but a minute.
Plus I got a plane, so it’s nothing but a thing.
What do you say? Wanna be my Sunday?
Feb 2018 · 134
Collapsing Arteries
what a waste Feb 2018
I’m smoking like I was reaching for the nose bleeds.
Watching **** youse slip through the grit,
you can catch me grinning up a **** storm.
Got the women wet and their boys warm.


Sometimes I think I’m gonna die,
but I keep on spinning anyways.
We’re all here until where not, right?
Would you smile at your last goodbye?

I would.

That’s why I keep a heart tattooed to my hand.
You can always find Indiana and ask him who I am.
Feb 2018 · 131
Pills & Liquor
what a waste Feb 2018
The chosen has awoken.
Time to kick back a few potions.
You know, swashbuckle the swig like a showman.
I’m here for the heroics,
all the way down to the goldfish.
I’m the bottom feeder that figured out floating.
Sorta doltish.
Got rank and file like, “Hold on, ***, he’s still loading.”
Um, Ma’am? I think you meant molting.
It's hard not to hate myself sometimes
Feb 2018 · 147
what a waste Feb 2018
I sold myself as an ocean.
Sailed it til I was lost out in the open.
I wonder if it's cause I thought myself brave.
The waves seem to sink beneath the days.
Feb 2018 · 141
Painfully Honest
what a waste Feb 2018
I shake trees and watch junkies
drop like leaves. Please, it's a subtle breeze.
If I wanted to, I could puff this place
to it's knees. Freeze! It's a robbery.
Got you reaching for the stars.
Heh, as if you could follow me.
I'm toking up an ocean.
Floating up this poem.
Got it bottled for the coastland.
Coded for the devoted.
Duly noted were the roses.
Jan 2018 · 171
what a waste Jan 2018
I only hear the dead.
Only grieve The Never.
Possessed like specter.
Melon working like a piston.
Ignition. Yeah, It's a weapon.
Boom but bigger; think destined.
Mutant to these silly humans.
Beetles bejeweled to a windshield.
Equal to a decal, now just how does that feel?
Best to kneel before General Zod.
If not, it's the drop top, Cogs.
I could swerve outside the lines
and still stay on course.
I'm like an astronaut to the horde,
casting lightning bolts when I'm bored.
My crown's adorned with worms,
best believe I feed the birds.
Jan 2018 · 164
what a waste Jan 2018
I need a cat nap.
Who's got the catnip?

My opinion..
Bristled whiskers warrant the Tinkerer's missiles.
Get lost in a field of lily-white when the doom plume glitters.
Around here, the suspicious get slipped into sinkholes
like a billion dim pixels fading through a fishbowl.
Although, we all know, vertigo provokes the sickest flow.
Jan 2018 · 177
Drown the Tide
what a waste Jan 2018
A beacon beckons autumn a month before the climb
like a busy little bee drumming up an appetite.
How many times must the down be dyed
before the lowest of tides gets stuck to the sky?
We descend to the deep when them hills turn steep
and reach for the quill when the fleece won't leap.
He dreamt on the sheets like the waves on a beach
til the brittlest of his fleet ceased to leak.
Rise and shine, concrete feet, you were made to sink.
Took to the zinc like a Great to a tank;
he was bred to think but forced to shrink.
Everyday it's the plank, despite the wake.
It was there on the brink where he found his bake.
Dec 2017 · 122
what a waste Dec 2017
The Destroyer of Worlds reduced to a verb.
I'll swallow my tongue to entomb these words,
and down beneath that crooked oak they'll stir.
Check this, he's a menace entranced by ***** little pendants,
obsessed with vengeance like Khan on injections,
and sick to death of these meritless contestants.
Tremble before his temple bearing nothing but the essentials.
While the peasants peddle pebbles like life lessons
he's off to the heavens in a vessel freshened for the devils.
His friendliest is an exposition against his pension.
Expressions like weapons so he aimed em at his reflection
then pulled the trigger with inimical intentions.
Dec 2017 · 255
what a waste Dec 2017
I'm better bitter.
Cross my heart. Watch me die.
I fortified the sky
with my ever so clever mind,
then colonized the divides
that hid like lice on shifting tides.

I am the truth.
The one, The only
Soul Possessor of Proof.
I chase the **** like raids of troops
raining down hell on breathless boots.
Hoops and hoops, it's all I do.
Who knew the stew taste so good?

Grade A Plutonium patience
ingrained into his creation;
I'm in this game for the glitches.
Bet these mitts wont miss it.
Be ready for when **** get's real.

Hold the hard R, pass the small L,
rewind time then expel.
Crown the king. Sound the bells.
It's been found - my rabbit hole to hell.
Home bound on a lickety-split spell.

Personnel parallel to the view box,
unload your wisdom unto us wee rocks.
Chisel past our flaws to our resolve
and free us from that which scars.
Hearts on hearts should be enough.
Dec 2017 · 165
Praise Prometheus
what a waste Dec 2017
Harvest the honeybees;
Pluck their budding wings and
place 'em at his base for all the world to see.
Topple the God's that took away our sheen.
Park your disobedience in a bucket of Soylent Green.
Climb the pyramid scheme with a gut full of gasoline
then scream, "A kamikaze ain't got a ******* thing on me."
Regurgitate your dwindling dreams all over their Dramamine.
For ****'s sake folks, they took Morpheus and fed him to the sea.
Sorry, but the subroutine's got me itching for an inch of breeze
and the Machine Queen next to me is pressuring me like a submarine.
It's touchscreen feelings meets a world that wont stop bleeding.
I'm sure the regime's got their fist's full with antifreeze from the
last time they marched quarantined sardines to the guillotine.

Praise Prometheus.
He couldn't get in and he couldn't get out.
what a waste Dec 2017
The breeze is always too brief.
If it were up to me, I'd flee this breath and cease to be.
Photosynthesize the seconds through the leaves
then turn them into questions I'd pleasantly grieve.
His peace fits a sheath in case the routine is to deceive.
Man made me think hence I'm broken to the bleak.
Greet silence with a smile like, "Hi, I'm dying to be quiet.
Pull me apart for the slightest, I promise you I wont fight it."
Nov 2017 · 182
what a waste Nov 2017
Black hoodie, half woolly,
stuck prematurely playing hooky.
Born with a ******'s book
like I was Chuck trying to cross the brook.
Cross your wood then look
to the words left carved in your mood
and ask yourself if this is something
you'd wanna pursue like glue.
Clutching questions in your palms
like a *** begging for a lesson.
Not me not I, I'm a certified deadbeat for life.
Nov 2017 · 1.9k
The Midnight Shift
what a waste Nov 2017
I heard the dreaded Devil's hour grew a tongue
to call and taunt his name, but rings like steam in vain

Dilapidated hooves ooze aimlessly from out the cave
like calcium cracking forth unto and through the waves

Fresh against the pave they split and fray
Fresh against the pave they put the grit in grave

There's always gonna be two sides to things so we
play on swings and make believe we're in between
Sep 2017 · 386
what a waste Sep 2017
He's backwards - impractical, practically
snapping from the woefully composed laughing.
He's properly combating the raft of phantoms
bathing in his atoms; at least that's
what he tells himself when the
rabbit breaches the furthest fathom.
It's a rerun he's now seen some obscene sum.
The captain is a mad man and refuses to fasten the cannons.
Life lines turned into talons and punctured his rat lungs
leaving him breathless in a land of gasping rascals.
There's no need to speak when factions keep acting
like fractions; can't you see that classes are shackles
meant to keep you distracted via splashes.
Sep 2017 · 213
what a waste Sep 2017
I must of bled the sledge dry;
gripped it too hard then let my creaks fly.
It used to save my life when the time was right,
but now the night haunts me like I've gone and died.
"Pick up your chin, kid. The plume ain't too bright."
I might but the particles feel like pesticides against my hide.
Too pessimistic to bleed, I picked up the scissors
and flea'd the **** out like I was dodging God's triggers.
Paradise sounds more like a synonym for prison
and I've surpassed being baptized by the right side.
So no thank you, but I will take an extra large fry.
A step away from vampire, so what if I live to dine.
I'll dine 'til I die and I don't give a **** if I'm crucified.
Sep 2017 · 199
I cant feel a thing
what a waste Sep 2017
All my favorite songs will forever
remind me of the time I killed myself

I am not alive,
I don't think I ever was
I'm a hybrid,
an artificial two tone virus
Science sent me here
to flatten the heart of giants
I'm mindless and know it
I don't need to be reminded
I'll find my vow of silence
behind a four pound tyrant
Sep 2017 · 169
A Dead Beat
what a waste Sep 2017
Quick, crack the casket
She's breached the flank
and plans on scalp'n my think tank
I grabbed the brass to finance a glance
but her chant'n left me in a trance

I must be made of clay
'cause when she reached inside of me
and applied the heat I froze in place
My eyes caved in and within I sank

She put me back inside the cage
where shakes feel like quakes
and the cold eats through quilts
like a weaponized wolf drinking silk

Frantic, I'm tearing at the pages in a panic
Trying to make wings but wound up in a hammock
I think it's probably obvious I lost the schematics
That or the fabric's just too ******* elastic

I'm not dramatic I'm rationally passionate
and if you think this is bombastic I suggest
you take a step back and flavor the magic
She says I'm stoic I say I'm galactic
my s.o.s just hasn't reached her yet
Aug 2017 · 371
Send Me Straight To Hell (
what a waste Aug 2017
The war horses came fitted with promises of pleasure
busted down the door then tickled me to death with a feather
I'd let these clever professors pick apart my leather
so long as they remembered to disassemble my temper
The rain clouds look like cyanide capsules turned inside out
I kinda wish they were so I could show you how a turkey drowns
Aug 2017 · 679
My Repulse
what a waste Aug 2017
Hello, My Beautiful Black Hole
It's been a bittersweet minute since we last engaged
The circularity's had me freezing out the frame
Systematic collapses happen whenever I check mark my passion
I'm grasping at static captions lagging from an attic packed with distractions
I've been trying to refrain from seeping down the drain
but for some reason that **** just keeps calling my name
Face to face with the drips I wonder how my cysts will taste
If possession is nine tenths of the law
I'll take you legally bound to my tongue
I'm a repulsive cultist proposing voltage
engrossed by the most revolting poet
Aug 2017 · 274
what a waste Aug 2017
Backbone - methadone,
live long - die young
Taste the honeycomb
never mind the buzz
We're all chum waiting
for the sharks to come
I'd swallow my tongue
if the words would play worm
for my mockingbird
but I know I'm one stone throw
away from being broke so
I'll avoid the phone like I
forgot how to be grown
Torn between mastodon and prawn
Someone take me home - chloroform
Firstborn - I'll be the last gone
Aug 2017 · 414
what a waste Aug 2017
I've idolized for some time now
the stone altars which lie numb
Countless sums found their way to zero
for no other reason than to become some hero
Maybe I'm just ******, but something tells me
I'd treat that **** like it's my do or die pillow
I can hear the beat of their drums
running a marathon towards my tomb
Help me help you
I bleed dumb, I bleed young
take me before the night comes

Lock me up and throw away the key
It's kind of ironic the way red compliments
the rocks only when the sun is hung highest
Death to the tyrants I will not be silenced
I'll constantly ***** this corrosive lifeblood
til it crashes 'cross the cosmos like some defiant comet
I do not need a realignment my mind is it's own climate
and I'll keep heading for the highlands
like I'm climbing for the brightest
Forgive me, I'm just farsighted and this here island
looks more like a diamond than confinement
Jul 2017 · 247
Inside Me
what a waste Jul 2017
I've died a thousand times;
crushed by rain and everything in between.
Check the drops they nestle my name.
And like a million guillotines
they've set me free.
Crown me King.
Take my dreams.
Make me think.
Jul 2017 · 170
Kill The Night, I Mean Nape
what a waste Jul 2017
I'd **** poetry just to keep the defilers from their perpetual teething.
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