I may be from the sticks
but I'm hood
at heart.
Gagayngster style.
Trend setting, tight jeans and hair dye.
Diluted goth style.
D-d-drink punch and die,
for y'alls lovers
or die a used ******
on da side of da road.

Soul Spit.

Siting quietly at the

crowded station.  

Waiting for

this feeling

to stop racing like

a train.

On the tracks of my strung out heart.

I'm trying to forget your name.

Just let me get my drink on

and

I

should

be good on that.

Colder than January's breathe,

the silence of our empty room

has made me bitter.

January's Breathe.  I'm cold cause you left my heart open.

Beauty isn't
something you see.
Solely in a mirror's reflection.

I think it's how
you make me feel.
I really never wanted to be here.
In the first place  

But its okay, when I'm with you.

Oh Baby, you've done.

Captured my essence
and made me think
that
I
exist.

For a
slit-wrist second
in "time".

Until them sparks
make fire.
& take you up in his flames.

A bad dream.
Filmed right between my
starry-eyes.

Soul Photography,
uhhhh
Flashbacks of missin' you.

Until then,
I will be all black
& nothing more.

Than a wannabe-writer in the
mourning.
And a secret-screamer at night.

Just show no fear.

Never cry.
Never love
Never die.

Liars live lies
for ever.

Yellow eyed wolves
with
sharp-pearly whites.

Are lusting after you.

But they just want to ,
paint their teeth.

With your,
blood-red-dead.

Sheepy

sheep

sheople

carcass.....

My heart beats
electric.
Till you pull the
plug.

Shut me down.
Let me die.
So I can start a new one.

Beep, beep, beep.
I'm going home.

Try as you might.
But I've seen how this will play out for me.
So why would I fight?

To end up sitting in the dark.
Wondering what's more tragic.
A funeral for a dead man.
Or a clandestine ceremony for a living one.

Sometimes grey is no longer an applicable color.
Something's need closure.

I'm just gunna
hula-hoop
right through
your
loop
hole.

I'm dating
Debbie Downer
but I'm bi-curious
for Positive Paul.

I'm hungry.
I'm pissy.

Debbie, get back to
Betty.
& Bake me a cake.
I'll go hang out
with
Paul and his country ****.
Whoops,
I mean
Crock.

You can just keep *******'
in the kitchen.

One day, I pray
I'll break free from these chains.
To run far away.

Fast, like the Devil's
following me.
And as his hand grasps my collar,
I'll fall back into your arms again.

If you were here
and they were gone.
My hearts bleeding there too.

Wait,
wait, waiting
tables.
Waiting on my back,
waiting for you.
To come
and take
me to
Love's Bath House.
So we can get clean
together.

After all
love is
a shared feeling
anyways.

I want to go
and bathe,
in a liquid love pool,
cause
the city water
just doesn't feel
clean
anymore.

Trapped again,
once more I've been
tucked in so tight.

I've caught myself
slowly suffocating in between
your silky ***-sheets.

Baby, just
pressure me into
putting out.
One more time.

Sing,
me another
one
of your,
lovely lullaby lies.

Put me to sleep
&
turn off my night light.
Or,
whatever, you do.

But when you're finished,
take whatever's left
of me.
And cast it
down into the darkness.

My body wants
to get back
with my soul.

Listening to the
uncensored
lyric lies.

Getting lost.
in a mother *******
*******-haze or
web.

Uh,
whatever,
you say.

Just leave me
be.

& No
the colourful *****, you're
shovin' down my throat.

Isn't making me like you
anymore than I already
don't.

I'm just
going to put on
my shades,
cover my hears
and pay lip service.
I'm in the front
pew
of a mad house.
That lost it's meaning,
when money
started motivating
the message.

So while,
I sit here and roll
with this
like a joint.
Care-free & easy.
In the back of my head,
I feel like
the force
that's being represented.
Is all mightily
*******
that his
ungenious
wanna be
vigilantes,
giving
him or her
or whatever
a bad name.
Talk about infectious
*******.
No, I'm talking about religion.

I'm reading
between the lines.
So I can
have the knowledge
to overcome stupidity.
Negativity.
Biting my tongue.
Biding my time.
Paying lip service
to negative sermons,
served up
on a "free"
all you can eat
*******
buffet.

Shun the sinner.
Love the sinner
hate the sin.
**** THAT.
God in essence
would essentially
be nothing more than love.
Which is
a
feeling that in the end,
everything is going to be okay
because
we're in
something much larger than
our
deepest fears,
our
biggest dreams
and
most importantly
ourselves.

* So when they preach hate,
that is apparently
sent from god.
How are you,
100%
sure that, whoever they're
talking to is
just pretending to
be something
they're not.

Shocking similarities of today, pull the trigger.
Flashbacks of my days spent here yesterday.
I'm lost in the wrong place at the wrong time.
If you were here and they were gone.

Guess I'm parasitic by nature, I'll find my way back to you.
Long after the maggots got the best of me.

Depression is, living in a snowglobe.
Watching the world move around you.
While you're dealing with the guilt
of waking up disappointed for being alive.
Mania is just making up for lost time.

If you call for her,
she will always come
to greet you with a
haunting hello.
She can ****
your newly bought
full strength camera batteries
with one beyond the grave blow.
Her touch is like death
and Lucy is doing
a lil' tap dance on
her right shoulder.

She just wants you to stay out of the cemetery.
Stay out of her cemetery.
Out of her way.

Hello, "Hero" Dr.'s.

Are you having
fun;
handing out ****** hidden,
in little,
tiny pills?

Prescription.
Addiction.

Swimming in the fog.
Until it finally
swallows
you up.
&
Spits, you out dead.


Welcome, to the real-world.
**** gets better.

<3

In these times,
I am.
Unsure of what
I see.

& If
my eyes,
have not betrayed
my heart.

I will, only know you..

As a
monster,
Medusa.

Is your snake hungry?

We create ourselves,
our lives,
our everything.
We build our homes,
our families, our whatevers.
A make-shift cure for lonliness.
A lil' love hut.
With an open
heart and an open door.
One day you'll
hear a,
knock-knock-knocking
on your door.

& When you open it.
The Bad News Bears
will come in and
break you down until there is
nothing,
even in
your own mind's house.

Right before your very,
bright light blue sky tear-drop colored eyes.
The real-life-dream will end. & You'll wake up.

Until then, sweet dreams. <3

I'm developing
physical ailments.
From my over abundance
of feelings, I'd rather not have.
Being human, ***** man.

It goes.
Death, decay, destruction.
The fire will always destroy everything. So burn like a ******* match & make **** better.

Until then.
Dream-dream—dream
harder than your
hardest
hard-on.  
Then Ride it all the way to reality.
Or drink punch & die trying.
At least you, tried.
If not this time, there’s always next time.

Remember.
Create, Destroy, Rebuild.
Caterpillar, Cocoon, Butterfly.
Circular, Cynical, Cycle.

A moment of peace
in between the battles.
Of my heart and mind.

Is as common as a
four leaf clover.
A rare occasion.
A holiday for my heart.

To forget the war it's losing.

We sing the songs
we write
in our own choirs.

Faces of gods.
Bodies of goddesses.
&
Voices of angels.

We're all missing property
of Heaven.

Until we die.
&
Rise above this.

I've been trying to understand this insanity.
But it's nothing but a losing game for me.
When white is black.
And black is white.
I'm forever searching for a shade of gray.

Your
shoe landed on
my heart-space
and crushed all
of my
mental properties.

It was like
playing
real-life monopoly,
with all the
crooked banks.
& There is no light,
at the end of this tunnel.
No bail outs for me,
this time.


However,
next game we play,
I'll make sure it's not
twister.

I never
wanted to get
twisted up in your lies.

So this time,
I won’t
**** up
&
miss
YOUR
red-heart spot.

I'm not
going to fall
on my ***
in the middle of your
lust-pit board game.

Ever again.

I kept getting lost in your mind games.
So I took a risk and started building an empire.

I own The Board Walk & Parks Avenue now
& you’re in jail for three turns.
How’s it feel?
*****.

But our blood
will spill
Just the same.

It's not about the headless
victm.

Nor will  it ever
be. So.
Just chill.
And enjoy the thrill
of the ****.

The blessed expedition.
Hunting the Hunter.
Is a most wonderful feeling.

Going postal
On the ones giving you
All these letters.

The mail carrier.
Is positive for swine.
Flu.

Cause the news.
They keep dishing us.
Is tainted.

Rotten.
Like the word.
This **** is rolled.
Gold.
Put that in your straw
And snort it.

Home has
never ever been the same.
Since,
your soul went away
to
some place better.

Hey Mama,
it's
been
a hot-hot
couple of years
spent
burning in hell.
Here,
without you.

Do you
Remember,
the days of yesterday
&
all of the seconds
we
blocked out,
blacked out,
&
burned out
on every
dream we had.

I Still got
that grocery list
you wrote me
&
when I have the $.
I'll buy myself out of this

I'm coming home,
the second
my
clock stops.

Promise.

May 16th: You learn by doing.

If I keep following by your example,
I'll be a ghost soon too.
I want to meet angels.
My memory claims to be subjective
But I'm calling its bluff.
My hand has cards in high places.
Hot boxing joints and chugging forties,
Trying to forget my questions,
Cause the answers were nothing but a let down.  
You're still up in the sky
but soon enough you'll come free falling
back to hell with a headache and a hang over.

May 17th:
I'm tripping *****
cause life is nothing but a good trip.
When you think,
think with your mind.
Your brain will always have two sides.
KEEP YOUR HEAD STRAIGHT.

May 18th:
I'm avoided like the plague
cause I spread like disease.

Sin is subjective, keep your opinions to yourself.

A place where
you can feel
safe in your own skin.
If all the under-dogs
got together
we'd still be a pack of little dogs.
But we'd be
the same size
as the
guys
that took us to the kennels
anyways.
Jail break,
let;s get our
freedom back.

Passion.
Love.
& everything else that makes a
goth
gag.

True love is something you'd die for.
Cuz
True love out lives life.

I want to be in love not lust.
Guess I better drink punch
& die.
Or I can have 7 marriages.
and die half way through my 8th.


So to who ever has some tropical punch,
This *****
be
thirsty.

Myths:

It's not dope, it's chronic so chill out
and I'll pass you that blunt.
Better off high on positivity.
Than down from negativity.
Sulking in all of my
strung out,
burnt out,
and miserable glory.
It's not dope, it's chronic so chill out
and I'll pass you that blunt.

If you can drive in reverse, you'll pass the test.
Just remember to keep one eye on the mirror
and the other one on your back.
The road is full of black holes
that only wish to break you down
in a dark, depressing ditch.

People keep calling me the anti-christ.
Today, I'm flattered.
Tomorrow, I could be flattened by their stones.
I'm trying to scare  away the stupid.
It's not working.
Cause I'm an idiot magnet.

The black sheep is always first to get
exiled from the flock.
You'll find more life in a cemetery than you will in my heart.
Cause magic isn't microwavable it has to cook the real way.

They say time is always working against us.
But what they really don't know is that time doesn't exist.
We will always be here.


Rapid cycling mood rings:

I used to control my mouth
until I cracked under the pressure
and bit my tongue off.
The world is out to **** me of everything they can take.
I got my dress shoes on and my wallets loaded with condoms.
I know what is inevitable and what is avoidable.
**** get's better.

Colour electricity.
Folded & fermenting
inside an aluminum-cocoon.

In time.
I'll see them,

Passionate purples
&
Beautiful blues.

It will
look like
someone done
painted a mosaic.

All up
in my hair
but it's really
just
my
Ultra-Violent-Weave.

It scares me, how much I'm like you. Generational demons unlocked their curses and waged a war against our souls. Like being caught under a frozen pond. Trying to break free of the oppression. Trying to breathe, while your breath of life became a long dramatic sigh. Like the sand on an hour glass slowly fading into past tense. I used to love you. I used to walk down one way streets too.

A. terrible
T.oday.
M.akes for a
    tolerable.
    Tomorrow.

So fill,
your
hollow-heart;
up with anything
you can find.

Wake up,
take the pills.

Dumb-ing myself
down.
Because apparently
I "need" to chill
& numb the **** out.

I'm raising my
punch glass
and
screaming cheers
for
survival.

I'm just so-******'
numbing myself
over.

</3
Until
it's my
time
to shine.
in the
sun.
<3

It'll rise, soon enough.

Time doesn't exist,
I will always be here,
waiting.
For your call.

From a world
beyond,
what my eyes
can see.

I'm ready to go home now,
too.
May the cord wrap
around my neck and
take my breath
away.

Hallmark heartbreak,
seasonal depression
all four
seasons of the year.
Individuals
will always feel lonely
on the most
celebrated days of the year.
Feeling feels.
Like you're
living
for
for someone/thing
else.
& You're 1/2 way there to them.
But your still
halfway here.
1/2 ghost.
I just don't want to take any
pictures
today.
Metaphor
shmetaphor.
I'm the
metaphor magician.
:)
& you're beautiful.
<3

Bandit
is just the body-bag
of a soul that
was left behind
at
the train station.
**** out of luck.

Walking on the path to
bitterness.
Faded.
Jaded.
Perfectly posing
positivity.
With exceptional posture.

Because crying in public
is like throwing yourself
into the
lion's den.

I'm safer
at the
half-way-dead-house.

I can dream there.
Some-day that's a nice thought.

Run, fast
and don't look back
at the phantoms who chase you.

For if you look into
the darkness.
It becomes a part of you.

Your imagination
is the foundation of
your reality.

You can never be lost
if you follow the silver-cord trail
all the way home.

Back into
my arms
again.

He asked me if....
"It hurt, when I fell from Heaven".

I replied with a quick.
" It was painless
until my face
cracked open
on the bottom...
Of the brimstone
under-world.
They call me Fallen Angel, down there."

jkiddy.

You've got one wing
out the cocoon.
You're halfway there.

One day.
Some day.
It
will
happen.

Even if
you're,
not ready
prepared
or expecting it to.

When the other wing
follows
the first
& you're
no longer,
a crawling
caterpillar,
on the
cracked out,
crooked
cement-circle.

You must.
Spread your wings
and fly off
the
very top
of your
heightened
fears.

To the arms
of an old,
dusty dream.

We can never be together but,
I wish we could.

Fatal attraction,
will always
grab the
Grim Reaper & his scythes,
attention.
But this time,
dying doesn't
look like,
an eternity of lonely nights. ,

It's
Almost,
well,
actually
it is
a
tempting thought
for a
split-slit
wrist
second.
Given the right causes.

But.

I'm here
in the
Hearse behind
you.
Playing passenger
on the
69-blood-line.
I called shot-gun.

We're way-out
on the highway home.

Only
7
more counties
2
go through.

Til I can see those,
better-places
&
your
pretty, familiar face.

I'm just throwing pennies in a well.
Wishing to stay relevant.

Like one does when
keeping up with the Jones's.

Here to fight a losing battle
with the day before me.

Because the night marked me present.
And I'm still here.

Despite all opposition.

Burning like a match.

All I ask for is a shovel. I lost my roots, when I stepped outside my mind. To walk besides towers of false hopes, that stood higher than reality. Hallucinations of what could be always look better than the visions of what is. Like fool’s gold, my reality is also false.

Thoughts. In my thoughts, I sit alone. Watching the process I call my life continue for another day. A barred window is my only chance to see my body surrender to those bright white lights, without the compliance of my mind.

Retreating to the end of your mind, to converse with your fears is reckless endangerment. Some of us just live a little more dangerously.

Simple sunsets & the complexity of the circuit board. Leaving town, so we can laugh our lives away. Enlightenment is usually cloaked in lies. So we’ll spend our time running from the truth because that’s all one can do. Burning bridges to take the long way. Day to day life is just an escape from living.

In life, the soul is held captive in a flesh prison. But when the dream is over and my soul is freed, to fly into the emptiness of eternity. I will find you once again.

Burning like a match in the end we will be nothing more than ash. The great beyond is just a myth. Here today and gone tomorrow. Our hearts stop when the fire dies.



.

Brand it,
Bandit.
Livin' the dream,
curse.

Sulking
in the silence
of your sorrows.

Neck deep
in worry waves.
&
I'm drowning, in the
shallow waters of my own.

Sometimes you just feel so
zombie esque it hurts to breathe.
The twitches
of a witch's
evil eye.

Mirages,
of a former ghost.
My personalities paid host.
Posessions, demonic in blood relations.
I'm lost, in my own sea.
Dead like the one before me.

Running North,
aura lights
are taking me home.

Six feet underground.
Pine box mannequins,
all done up dead and pretty.

Morticians's pride,
a job well done.

Such a shame,
it was a closed-casket
viewing.

Playing pretend *******
is
perfectly peachy-keen.

Don't be mean
and play em'
faster than a round of
pictionary.

Don't act cheap
and put out
at the lowest prices.

You're worth more money than that.
You can't rush magic,
but if you wanna set yourself
up in a
trap.

You can always
go
hook up with.

The
Strangers Of Today.

But you might end up
in bed with
the biggest mistake
of your life.

Narcissists have fans.
Poets
have
passionate
friends.
Welcome to the Love Cult.
The Sun
that is the center
of Bandit's universe.
Space is cold
and dark and lonely.
But together,
we're going to make
a
bright
& beautiful world.