I should have had a little more grit,
Should have put a gun up to my head and quit,
Should have given the devil’s words some more weight,
Should have would have could have but it's too late
                                                            ­                            
Would have stopped it all if I wasn’t so blind,
Would have traded my soul contract sealed and signed,
Would have done anything to wipe this slate
Should have Would have Could have but it’s too late
                                                            ­                              
Could have killed myself, it would’ve only been fair
Could have ran away alone, a monster in its lair
Could have if I wasn’t too scared to choose my fate
SHOULD HAVE WOULD HAVE COULD HAVE BUT IT’S TOO LATE.

Straight off the presses of my warped mind
Comes another ******* broken record scream
Broken bottles and used needles crash in the current
Of my polluted ***** consciousness stream

Cambion Nephilim Paradise Lost
Under the heavy heel of the undertow
I Weep and see how awful goodness is
I'm in Charon’s boat as I Row Row Row

Slithering crocodiles wait to eat the refuse
As I drift down the river with no direction
While Gondoliers whistle in Venetian Canon
Sinking like a cannon to my ****** up reflection

That's all I am in the end a collection of thoughts
Written by better men and formed by worse times
Just another repeating record trying to scream
And thinking it will sound less desperate if I make it rhyme.

Self destruction is a prerequisite to be a fighter,
we play ****** knuckles with ourselves till we're nearly dead,
just to prove that we are unbreakable, invulnerable,
and yet we still end up staining everything red.

We're all scars and trophies, made of contradictions
disciplined yet still all ruled by addiction
we can win any fight but can't beat this affliction
that we bought with our souls and conviction,

And then one day father time refuses to wait,
your knuckles scar over and your nose heals straight,
and when you die all you'll be able to show at heaven's gate,
is these scars, empty trophies, and the beautiful violence you used to create.

God I'm so tired I just want to rest
but there's this dull pounding pain in my chest
ramming against my ribs when I try to lie down
and that's when I realize I'm still underwater, about to drown.

So I swim to the surface and try to stay strong
but I can't keep my head above water long
because the waves keep pushing me back under
like they follow the drumbeat of the crashing thunder.

my vision goes dark and my limbs get heavy as I gasp for air
but of course, just like everything, there's nothing there.
So I dive down to find the anchor around my ankle,
lean against it, close my eyes, and fall asleep.

Dark times and bleak signs circle in my head
As the devil whispers in my ear while I lie in bed
Coming like the raven at the final bell
To carry my unworthy soul down to cold cold hell

The dead prophets of false messiahs
Whisper eldritch mantras peddling the souls of pariahs
And begging me for my own life
As the new moon glints with impossible light on the edge of the knife

All these decaying archaic arcane ramblings bouncing in my skull
Slicing through my grey matter like knives and leaving me dull,
I come face to face with the dead prophets and the devil they serve,
And then I wake up and hide from my mirror.

I've relearned a lot of life lessons because of you, things I had let myself forget.
Never get invested in someone who demands that you be 'low maintenance' if you are going to stay in their lives. Don't fall for bedroom talk, it means nothing. Anyone who calls themselves selfish is likely telling the truth, especially if they know what they're asking will hurt you but they continually ask anyway. Cowards confuse anger with bravery, but you shouldn't. People who are incapable of looking past imperfections will not only be miserable, they will make anyone who tries to love them miserable as well. Working on flaws is important, but so is recognizing that any kind of relationship, platonic or otherwise, is based on a commitment to work past flaws that cannot be worked out because the whole of the person is worth that small sacrifice.

Under threat of death I bob and weave,
desperately dodging these juggernaut blows,
thrown by ghosts and devils I can't see,
and it's only a matter of time until I get caught.

But still, this one step from death adrenaline,
is the only time I can be sure I have  heart,
its the only thing I'm still in love with,
how could I ever leave that behind.

Late night headaches and trouble breathing,
limping up the stairs and wincing through hugs from my mother,
and yet all I can think of even with all that I've lost,
is that intangible thing I only have when I'm barely alive.

I've sold my soul for a one in a million gamble,
I've bargained my sanity for sweat and belief.
A belief that for once in my ******* life,
I can stay alive by moving forward instead of running away.

Medea, Morgana, and Jezebel,
say that if I still have a soul left to sell,
they'll gladly lie with me and hold me real tight,
so for once in my life I might sleep through the night.

But I'll stay up alone till the sun scrapes the sky,
cause my talent is tied to this pain and my pride,
So I'll never feel better, I won't clean the slate,
No I won't ever be happy, because I want to be great.

Im a man made of gold with a heart made of fire,
I'll melt down to **** giving into desire,
I'm surrounded but I'm still all alone,
because ambition won't let me pick up the phone.

I'll trace these empty circles around empty words,
and I'll use a razor to cut my soul into thirds,
One to the devil to pay for my ambition,
One to my obsession for the blood on the ground,
and one to Medea.

I've got whiplash from all the places your swinging me,
you've got me in heaven, you've got me in hell,
falling asleep against my chest, keeping me at arms length,
what am I and where do I stand on this blurred line you've drawn?

Sorry I fell for you. Bad call.
I was an emotional pit stop,
and now I'm *******,
and you do not care.

I get it. I actually do. I used to do the same.
You got what you needed from me.
A shoulder to cry on, some feelings,
and now I'm inconvenient.

I'm not angry at you, just myself,
because I keep being taught,
and I keep on forgetting,
the difference between someone who cares and someone who needs you.

I'm in the middle of a two face Gemini genocide,
people tell me that I'm Jekyll but the mirror says mister Hyde,
I have a room full versions of me that have already died,
keep em locked in the basement veins full of formaldehyde.

Oh won't someone come stitch me back together,
stretch my skin over new bones so I can feel better,
wash the aftertaste of my failure off of my tongue,
get the ashes of my innocence out of my lungs.

I'm sorry that I'm singing this, I swear I'm not your fault,
I want to be a better man, but this is my default.
I'm split in so many pieces that it seems I've lost my mind,
When did I choose pride, and leave my soul behind?

Oh won't someone come stitch me back together,
stretch my skin over new bones so I can feel better,
wash the aftertaste of my failure off of my tongue,
get the ashes of my innocence out of my lungs.

hope you don't see this side of me, I'm sorry if you do
I just wanted you to know that I'm trying to be new.
I don't want to be the way I am, I don't want to be Mr. Hyde,
please don't lose your faith in me, I'm still alive inside.

Oh won't someone come stitch me back together,
stretch my skin over new bones so I can feel better,
wash the aftertaste of my failure off of my tongue,
get the ashes of my innocence out of my lungs.

I'm in this ring boxing with a ghost,
a poltergeist of my past transgressions.
He knows all the things I fear the most,
that I haven't changed, that all I've learned are false lessons.

He's made of hard forged steel,
indestructible and cold to touch,
his eyes glow with pride and a devil's deal,
nothing will be enough, let alone too much.

Sometimes when its cold out,
I think maybe I should let him possess me,
go back to being above morals and doubt,
Back to who I used to be.

I don't want to die happy, I want to die insane,
driven mad by my lust for success.
I need nothing and no one at my death bed,
because if my name is remembered I'm not dead.

I want to bleed and cry and break my body,
all for a few minutes of fame and glory.
Even surrounded I'll still be alone,
all so that when I'm in the ground I'll still be known.

I'll wander like Cain through the world,
with a damning mark I put on myself,
I'll wake up too early, go to bed too late,
I won't ever be happy, because I want to be great

"And the day of his birth shall carry with it all the joy of a barren field in spring, all the glory of a lowing ox as it dies,
and all the beauty of the midden heap."

Thus was it promised. His birthright was dirt on a coffin.
Thus was it spoken. His inheritance shall be only tragedy.
Thus was it written. His every breath will suffocate the sun.

And so it was. Only in dusk does he walk, and his domain is the cairn. Weeping martyrs and orphaned children are his chorus,
and the rushing of blood is the trumpet of his inglorious arrival.

Fence with me in the garden of Gethsemane,
under the light of a Judas moon,
blades flashing with weeping starlight,
as the sparrows sing our mournful melody.

I hear Christ praying in the olive grove,
as we dance upon this thorn strewn floor,
forgiveness, forgiveness is the prayer,
that falls on the deaf ears of the wind.

At this tragic table laden with imperial wine,
we speak under the stars of our last rites,
measuring out our coffins and our headstones,
and find ourselves at once alone with our pride.

There can only be one.

It whistles on the wind
that circles this hill
full of look a like tag a longs,
from a time before I Was.

There can only be one.

There's the grinner, the sinner,
the fighter, the writer,
the man, the monster,
and then there's me.

There can only be one.

Its a brutal war full of tears,
heads roll on the ground,
and blood mixes with the mud,
to create a marsh that drags my feet down.

There can only be one.

Slogging through the mire,
stumbling over corpses,
lashing out violently,
at that which isn't me.

There can only be one.

To the last man standing,
we fight as thunder rolls,
Over this hill of skulls,
as we **** for that law of the land.

There can only be one.

Peeling myself off the floor with shaking legs,
My head's spins and my bones feel lead heavy,
I grin through ****** teeth as the question begs,
what happens to the river when you break the levee.

****** knuckles, bent noses, and black eyes.
Dissociation hides behind a smirk and a dimple,
that practiced mask that self loathing buys,
I say I'm getting better, like its ever that simple.

You see I'm an expert at burning bridges,
a true to life true crime social arsonist,
I bathe in jet fuel to clean my stitches,
Just another on fire narcissist.

So leave my mirror be, cause its a cracked reflection,
the bad guy won my mental election,
Please don't trust his smiling inflection,
and save yourself from my infection.

I get away with it all the time.
I fight in crowded streets, in quiet stores,
I'll throw hay makers in china shops.
You bet your *** I brawl in public.

But it aint for the rush that I throw a punch,
nah baby its survival, straight darwinism.
I got enemies everywhere I turn,
and I can never keep them down.

They always got a bone to pick.
some got grudges, some just think Im a *****.
tomato tamato, I take em out they come back,
and start another brawl in public.

So if you see me sitting in an empty seat,
muttering and writing feverishly in the street,
stay out of the kitchen cause you can't stand the heat,
and leave me be while I brawl in public.

Staying up despite the pounding headache,
as my ghost grins at me from the mirror,
The same lines circling my brain like a snake,
wishing for miracles because I can't face my fears.

I know I hate myself but at this point I'm numb,
to my ghost padding along in my shadow,
just like I can't feel the thud as I hit the canvas,
or the cold of another night surrounded and alone.

I hate my voice that's so full of cliches,
but I'm a fraud poet so they're all I have,
I keep saying the same things over and over,
and expecting my ghost to listen this time.

Its 3 AM and I'm still lost in a deadlock of my dreams,
the Goals and the nightmares mixing to make a pale fear
of the dark that settles over my head and keeps me awake.

The smirk painted on my face is washed out if you look closely
you can see the cracks starting to form on my soul as I
struggle to reconcile who I was with who I am.

This inst a poem but I don't need rhythm right now just an outlet
because I'm so tired my filter is gone and so is my cutthroat mind
so all I can think is what the **** have I done.

Running is essential to being a fighter.
You will never be able to stand your ground,
if you don't spend hours running as fast as you can.
Ironic isn't it.

Every day. Early in the morning when everyone is asleep.
Wake up. get dressed. 3 miles, 21 minutes or less.
It's raining? *****. Its sleeting? Get over it. You're exhausted? too **** bad.

Its those moments when you don't want to run.
The times when you want to say **** it,
that's where you learn to stand your ground.
Ironic that it takes more ******* running to get there.

My heart beats a steady rhythm as I wage this fragile war.
My fists fly through the air and my feet trace a circle,
around an opponent only I can see.

As I sting and dance I watch it move,
liquid failure given shape,
threatening to devour me and all my pride.

I can't let it touch me, the demon that I fight,
I have to fight, have to win, or else I've lost it all.
because I am a sinner, but I still want to be the hero.
I am a monster, but I still want to slay demons.
I killed my angel, but I still want to play knight.
And so I trace a circle and throw punches at a ghost in an empty ring.

I was born evil. I know that to be true.
I did terrible things to good people.
And now that I've learned better,
and hate myself for all the things I've gotten away with,
all I can think to myself is "if God's there, why am I still here"

These dancing lights in my head,
The pounding rhythm like a drum
“BANG, BANG, BANG”
You gave them all to me.

You’re the driving force behind me,
The reason I can take this risk.
Because I know that no matter how foolish I may be,
You’ll always pick me back up and dust me off.

This doesn’t rhyme, barely has a beat,
Kind of like me.
I can’t buy you anything cause my account is tapped,
But I promise you’ll always have me.

When I stand up there, know you helped me climb the stairs.
When I Get hit, see yourself in the way I grit my teeth.
When I throw my hands out there like my heart,
Know that they’re heavy because your name is clenched in my fists.

I watch with wary eyes as the devil lounges against the wall.
"Come on, you know you can't do it without me."
she whispers, golden words dripping from her lips like wine.
I do my best. I shut my eyes, drown out her voice, and mutter "no".

I hear her laugh like a headsman and feel her stroll over and wrap her arms around me,
breathing softly in my ear.
"Sweety, you know you don't mean that. Even after everything I've done, you love me. How many times have I picked you off the ground and made you keep fighting?"
"How many times were you the reason I went down in the first place" I argue, but even to my own ears my voice wavers.

"Baby, please. You know I'll be as good as you let me. You just gotta be careful."
I sigh. For all her flaws, she wasn't a liar. She was above that.
"fine." I mutter, "But I won't let you hurt anyone else."
She grins. "See, I knew it was a matter of time."

I used to have a rhythm in me,
used to have a rhyme at every turn.
now I'm like an off key instrument,
you can hear the echoes of what I once was,
but I'm not musical anymore.

Now I'm a brick through glass,
a fist through sheet rock,
the sound of a storm tearing down a tree,
and yet I whisper to myself,
"If I want it enough I'll turn into that better me"
it never happens.

Tabby cat Tabby cat, stay indoors,
life is easy Where the rain can’t pour.
Food every day at six and three,
Ain’t nothing wrong with living for free.

Tabby cat Tabby cat, you wandered away,
wandering about the tall stone forest,
You try to hunt for something to eat,
Refusing to Join the Mewling chorus.

Wild cat, Wild cat, on the edge of the wild green,
Eyes aglow with a wary gleam,
You take another small step outside your home,
Following ambition and belief and a dream.

Wild cat wandering your hunting grounds,
Watching the horizon and chasing your prey,
Hunter defiant of your birthright,
Look back with pride on that day.

I stand with this grin, hands in my pockets and chin turned up,
Grinning defiance and pride against all my doubt personified,
knowing deep down I don't deserve to win and that I'm the bad guy,
the fire in my eyes burns so bright to disguise my false strength and lies.
The violence embedded in my fists like gems of wrath and ruin,
tell the story of a scared kid disgusted with what he did,
but too weak to stop because in the end he's a monster,
and the bad guy never learns, he just dies.

Careful girl, my razor-blade grin shines but it will cut you.
I don't want you to fall for me, but I can't stop chasing you,
cause your a golden girl, happy and loving and good,
and I'm just a thief trying to steal that smile I envy.

Piercing blue eyes can't draw my focus away from
the blood and pride and cracked bones that make
up my own personal mona lisa, my obsessed mind
can't love you back, so move on while you can.

I don't want to use you, don't want to be the shadow
cast over that glowing heart I see in my peripheral,
As I'm fixated on that belt like narcissus on himself,
so baby find someone who can offer you more than just a scarred knuckle and fire for the bridge you want to build

the dragon stalks inside my skull,
scorching my mind with visions,
the gleaming sword in my hand melts away,
and my sweat stings my wounds.

But still I can't stop running forward,
the heat drawing ash tattoos on my skin,
that spell out the name scorched into my soul,
the one word that has broken my bones.

The hurricane winds from its wings throw me back,
but I will not cannot stop advancing,
towards the eye of my hell and challenge the beast's king,
for the pride that makes my scarred soul beautiful.

I remember who I was, that lost shadow flowing through
the alleys of my fractured conscience,
trying to remember who I was under all the sin piled
upon my bleeding knuckles,
Just another monster held hostage by his own self conscious need to be the best succeed and not give a **** about my own broken down soul crying out for a person that already watched me die,
always raging against the dying of lights,
that were never there to begin with.

She asks why I love her.
I say not your smile,
not your eyes,
not your laugh
What I fell in love with is the way that you can,
with a single word, strip away all my foolish pride and my ambition and my need to prove Im better than the ones that came before,
and leave me just a man looking at a beautiful woman.

There's a monster growing in my soul,
screaming to keep climbing and never look back,
anyone who cant keep up doesn't matter,
I better reach the top or end up a blood splatter
on the concrete so far down below that I left behind
when you left and took the only thing holding back this
fire in my heart and this screaming violence in my mind.
Ive got this terrible ambition that won't let me stop,
won't let me form connections or fear what Ill drop
struggling always to reach the top of this mountain
I'm climbing all alone because I scared off all my friends
screaming into my pillow at night as I remembered the man
I used to be before I became a modern lucifer chasing after
perfection knowing Ill never make it but too proud to back down.
oh well, I might be alone all my life even when Im surrounded but even as Im drowning in the blood sweat and my mothers tears,
I'll know that in the histories my name will stand the test of time and make people believe the lie that I made it to the top because I beat my fears.

The Devil and I are well acquainted now,
we talk over dinner at least once a week,
her eyes are beautiful, the burning coals of rebellion and pride,
that dress cut just low enough to tempt me.

I always tell her I'm done and that I want to leave,
but by the end of the night Im begging her to stay,
because I can't bear the way the world looks,
without that hell fire heart lighting my way.

Her sweet toxin coating my lips when we kiss,
hot breath whispering in my ear,
saying she'll make me the best I've ever been,
If for one last night Ill just give in.

I wish I could end this verse by saying
I told her to get lost and made my own way,
but even as I'm writing this she's draped over me,
saying 'now see, that wasn't so bad'.

I stand tall under the weight of my pride,
my soul in chains I forged to hold it in check,
against the ever raging storm deep inside,
The devil wants to play cards but he stacks the deck.

My muscles feel torn right from the bone,
Villain laughter ringing in my heart,
when it comes to it I can never atone,
So I'll just stay in this fight, never said I was smart.

I won't go down on one knee for a god or devil,
maybe that's foolish, my ego ranting as it raves,
that I need no one and nothing, Im on my own level,
but right or wrong I belong to no one I am NO ONE'S slave.

Once upon a time I had enough,
needed nothing more.
When it left I lost my soul,
now its nailed to a belt.

So I'm chasing my salvation,
up hills, through grueling hours,
spent running and dodging bullets,
drowning in my own refusal to face my devil.

I'll climb the ladder, fight the kings,
travel far and wide.
I'll have that belt around my waist,
if I have to die a thousand times.

I won't stop, I won't go back,
no matter how many bones I break,
no matter how much I bleed,
I'm going to keep chasing that salvation.

I won't be another page in history,
written in invisible ink.
I refuse to ever be happy,
because I want to be great.

So you want to be a king, want to rule the world.
You like the crown of gold and think the name has a ring,
And figure you can sit in a chair, give a speech?
then there's a lesson we need to teach.

No one is a king by birth, not a single soul,
and not everyone can pay the toll.
you see the crown inst just for you,
its for everyone following too.

every ******, death and theft,
every ****, burned farm, and family left bereft.
every night, it all comes calling on your soul,
if your not careful all that hell fire burns a hole.

You think you know what it is to be a soldier?
Every life on the field stacked on your shoulders?
A king isn't made strong by stepping on the weak,
but by constantly holding them up every week.

The sword of Damocles hanging over our heads,
hanging by a thread threatening to **** our hope dead,
so if you think your neck can bear my crown's weight,
then feel free to relieve my from this heavy fate.

You think you're a hero but you're a fool,
struggling in the name of a drowning world
that will pull you down into the murk and mire,
even as you dare to dream of the sun.

You think the world is a poem and everything rhymes and has a reason,
but there's no meter to God's atrocities, and there is no ****** he's building to.
I was like you once, reaching for a purpose that doesn't exist,
trying to save a world that's already dead.

You may think you can do it but I promise,
once you feel the weight of your sins and failures,
you'll realize that the only way you can save the world,
is to burn it down and mourn the ashes.

We are the myth that stalks the night,
We are the liars that tread the halls.
Weak men buried deep below,
Secrets hidden in coffin walls.
Never will our songs be sung,
No crowns will grace our head,
No one will ever cry for us,
Because no one loves the dead.

Ever feel the blade of circumstance pressed against your throat?
that cold unfeeling lover wrapped around you that you name fate,
curling through your soul like a viper and strangling your chances,
to be anything other than what you were born to be?

This apartheid of souls in the empty sky of my mind,
two separate people in my head constantly fighting,
one with a grin like a razor and eyes like chips of ice,
one ******, broken, and flayed by his sins.

revenant of remnants
I can barely feel my heart racing under my tired ribs,
when I flash my razorblade smile,
to get her into bed.

Theres this dull ache for something missing,
when she begs for me but I know,
it wont mean anything in the morning.
My burnt out soul still holds the ashes of an artist I suppose.

I cant feel anything until Im dying,
cant hear the rush till Im bleeding out.
you took the fire that kept me warm,
and left a core of thunder

I can barely feel my heart racing under my tired ribs,
when I flash my razorblade smile,
to get her into bed.

Theres this dull ache for something missing,
when she begs for me but I know,
it wont mean anything in the morning.
My burnt out soul still holds the ashes of an artist I suppose.

I cant feel anything until Im dying,
cant hear the rush till Im bleeding out.
you took the fire that kept me warm,
and left a core of thunder

Its three am and here I am staring into the artificial light of my phone,
thinking that today Ill finally write something that matters,
even though nothing is new, everything's been done,
and all thats left is for men we dont know or see years from now to decide which was great and what was trash,
based on what benefits their goals and strokes their egos more.
my writing is my soul,
and I will not let it be slave to another mans whims.
what I say is mine alone,
it is not to be analyzed or loved or quoted,
it is to be read so that I may live for a brief time in the future.

My children appear to be
truly in love with Fire.
I regret letting them meet
that flickering *****.

She will lure them to their deaths
with her smouldering eyes
she closes the lips of protest
with her hungry kisses.

Had I known of man's weakness
their lust for destruction,
I would not have released her,
but her glow blinded me.

Fire gave me her word to help,
and at first she kept it.
Guiding mankind through the dark
chaste as any maiden.

but she began whispering
to man of great glory,
purred to them of their pride,
and soon ****** war broke out.

she watched them die with a smile,
caressing their shoulders
and holding them to her while
pressing blades to their throats.

Now she has lain with Man's kings,
her embers in their hearts,
so that when they burn the world,
she will rule the ashes

The old king sitting on his throne,
Chills running through his bone,
sits in shadow, not alone,
those that would be king.

Daggers creep on quiet feet,
Snakes all whisper something sweet,
the wolves all watch his golden seat,
Those that would be king.

They all want his crown and key,
but none of them can ever see,
the sword that’s hanging, Damocles,
Those that would be king.


Men with daggers in their cloak,
promise, oath, and friendship broke,
sing his praises, try not to choke,
those that would be king.

They watch his sword with wary eyes,
afraid he can see through their lies,
praying that tonight he dies,
those that would be king.

The king stands bleeding, all alone,
don't call out, there’s no one home,
soon he’s buried under stone,
By those that would be king

Revive this stone fixed mind in my rotting skull,
call thunder to strike my fossil heart,
Bring your fire and venom and steel,
make me feel pain and agony, anything real.

These strings that used to hold me up,
slide around my neck like a lovers arms,
they kiss and nudge my sanity loose,
all the while winding round me like a noose.

hecate, circe, my Nemisis,
your vengeance will come some day,
I wont let you leave me alive in this cell,
come get me or I will ring charons bell

I can feel this raw anger in me,
this boiling sea I dont deserve,
this should have died with my soul,
and yet its here burning a hole in my mind.

All those memories I have,
quiet mornings and whispered nights,
holding you in my arms like a treasure,
have been etched into my eyelids.

I cant escape the regret and guilt,
or the fact that I still love you,
I guess this is how the devil feels,
looking up from hell.

theres a beauty in the devil's fall,
a courage to looking God in the face and saying no.
we love fire not for the heat or color,
but because its beauty is like our own,
destructive.

Im falling out of my mind
Galaxies spinning in my eyes
Nine suns slowly fade to six
Incredibly, my planet snaps its ties
Tick tock I hear my heart click
Emerging machine like from dust.
Manic gold fly through my cosmos
Enticing, but all it does is rust.

do you ever watch the night?
the blanket that hides your faults from sight,
as it spreads across the ground,
this tapestry of starlight and sound.

I can hear the sorrow and the pain,
the joy the love and the patter of rain,
clearer now than in harsh light of day,
I can see where God and the devil lay.

This silent night so full of holes,
silver pinpricks and bullet wounds,
every time I think they cant get any bigger,
we put a gun to our head and pull the trigger.