It's not my intention to bring pain everywhere I go
Just how I've lived; so, baby, it's all I know


With a hand wrapped around my throat,
And another in my lap,
I'm death-defying,
******' flying,
Ready to crash.
Land another job,
But it doesn't get rid of me.
Ain't nothing that does,
Is that stupidity or an epiphany?


Lord knows I'm a liar.
I got my downswings but this life ain't so bad,
After all, it's all I've had
I only wish I could have spent it better,
cradling your head in my lap
and running my hands through your hair.

There's people I need to cut from me,
Bleeding red until I'm free,
like ribbons in the wind.

Finger **** my brain but not with your pain
I got my own and it’s only taken it this long to grow
Accustomed to the ebbs and flows of my daily woes
Black out stress and wake up an egotist that lost his ***** to capitalism’s fist.
**** a society that’s too blind to see the lie it breeds between its blackened teeth.
I’ve been a poet as long as I could know it but no one listened and I couldn’t find an *** to start kissing.
So here I am, watching my career build so I can one day too be a black and blue has been.
I’ve been on a suicide binge once or twice so I can tell you to get high if you’re gripping the knife, even if I’d prefer you wouldn’t but since you’re not gonna listen to me I’ll make my own exit.
Looking at how long it took me to get where I am, it’s a wonder I didn’t stop; but I got so used to tripping up hill, you can find me walking on my hands.
Or walking backwards, walking into walls, walking into you, this reality just ain’t as colorful, sorry, really.
Next time you’re burning a bridge maybe back away instead and see if it rots and festers that way the nerves are dead and dog has a new chew toy.
Or maybe just do whatever the **** is you, none of this ever mattered to begin with.

I have no more words left
Maybe I never did
And every word I've written thusly
Is all equal to ****

I am lost and screaming
Always alone
A helluva catch
That's left to die on the boat

I see no reason
No answers, no friends
No way to keep it civil
And just hold hands in the end

I am a *******
Shaken, not born
A tube TV,
And portable source of dopamine

If I'm crying
You'll never know
I couldn't trust you enough
To let the cracks be shown

I hate reality
Only that ain't true
I love the **** around me
And the flowers in bloom

But I'm in a cave
A closet, a cage
Some place to trap ambition
Where serenity fades

My words are ugly
You think I ain't know?
But they're all I have to love you,
So why not just leave 'em alone

I'm all lies and bad etiquette
Don't like myself but then again who's head am I in?
Mine or yours?
Mine or my fantasy?
Mine or thine's enemy?
I'm a child of hate, spite and fury...
'cept that's a lie, my mom's an angel and my dad's an influence.
I made myself into whatever the **** I am, so I can't point the blame at them.
But what am I?
I feel like a success and I got the track record to ******* prove it.
But this other part screams I'm nothing.
Isn't nothing all we are?
What makes a man human?
****, what makes a man a man?
We're finally waking up to the idea that this was all a costume party,
Frankly it's about ******* time.
I don't care if you're buddhist, muslim, christian or any other domain,
I'm sick of watching my friends hurt.
It's just another thing I can't control and I'm sick to dying with all this ******* lying.
Maybe one day I'll wake up and forget my name and the simulation will come crashing down.
But since  I think I'm in it, I'd kinda like to win it but without all this ******* regret.

But honestly, I'm as two-faced as they come.
Only it's typically me I'm lying to.
Lately I feel like that's growing
The cracks are showing,
Thank god for comedy, poetry and metaphysical mutilation.
Transgress and live free,
Escape spiritual poverty.

I'm screaming in seconds like transparent orbs
The words of intoxication blend my speech
Until my mind is barely making sense
Of the reality I've lost touch with.

I question myself and my everything
And every single movement like a weather vane
Capturing the winds of my attention
To lesson my mentions and increase the tensions.

I ain't so sure about myself as I once was,
Maybe it's all of the drugs or the lack thereof.

Hate to be a bore but I'm looking to score,
But I ain't sure if we're playing hockey, tennis or soccer.
Never suffer a witch or burn a martyr,
Especially when they're the supplier.

Ain't much of a liar but then I ain't ever been much for the truth neither.
I'm teething and biting the ***** of this so called life and I drink what I like, no matter the color.

Deep down and somewhere under, I shudder at the thought of what could be if I would stop speaking in metaphors and open up my energy in a direct application.
But since that's just a fantastic, too apt destination, I might as well shut my ******* mouth and finish this poem.

But I never know when to quit,
So last verse is dedicated to you...
Whatever the ******* are.

I got a head so big no halo fits me,
Don't **** with, ****, fight, or kiss me
I've got **** for breath, yeah I'm smoking whiskey
And baby's breath sweetly sings my medley.

I'm torn up and exacerbated,
Exhausted, but hey, I just masturbated,
So come quick, and see the Eden I painted
Before the pigs leave it ******' tainted.

I'm angry, I'm scared, I'm happy, I'm feared;
I'm everything you could want to be, wrapped up in a blanket weaved from my own neurosis.

I want to see your pretty face all black and blue,
Maybe a dash of red or two;
This part of me
It hates you
                     but what else is new?

Don't hesitate when the gang **** gets to you,
The pigs go marching two-by-two
Crushing freedom under the boot-
Licker's salivating watch.

Write words, curse and chase the hearse
Swerve, first, into oncoming traffic
And see which way my head goes when it hits the pavement.
Maybe that's why I got a bike instead of car,
Har-de-har-har.
I'm ****** up but lately it's just the chemicals in my head,
Not really any fresh ****.
I don't know if that's refreshing, or just ******* deafening,
But I'm really doing better than ever before,
Yet some things never change and I still feel like a *****.
Nevermore, the show must go on,
So how about a pyrotechnic display.
We'll just call it an accident when my career burns to the ground.
But *******, it's really hard to focus lately and not sure I even want to.
Do I want you?
Do I want to...
Hide away in some getaway and get on the way to a family and show and tell what knowledge fell into my lap,
maybe even a goat or two and a world of ******* beauty.
Or maybe I'll stay left askew, questioning you and tearing everything you love asunder, drowning it under entitlement and **** fits and another hit - literal and figurative.
But that really doesn't feel like me, so this isn't really a coin flip, a dichotomy or anything but a fantasy.
Though that's all words ever really are; from being hit with a car to smoking joints under sparkling stars.
Whether figurative or literal, they only exist in your head.
So take them to bed, wake up and seek something physical and animal,
While you're at it smoke a bowl or two,
We'll cut and rip and slaughter, too,
Only in the games we bother to,
Then go and make some art and *****,
Learn to pick apart our problems, too
And in the end, open hearts;
through, through.