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.

Bitter sweet,
headlines.

Filtered, censored,
cloaked in, invisible lies.

To keep our eyes,
blind.
Unaware of everything that's
crumbling,
beneath our minimum-wag,e
slave feet.

Systematically, we're made
to fall down
on our knees in defeat.

To **** the ****
of a hard ego.

& The beast, he's always near.
Hiding behind the faces of his diplomats.

Politicians are just criminals, who bought their way out of prison.

The only winner in life's trials are the ones brave enough to shout their dissent.

Control is merely a word to be taken in context.
If you could smell the desperation in the air.
You'd notice pleasant notes of petchulance and defeat.
Guising as false bravado our enemy lies like a motorboat whipping through the swamp he never drained.

Murdering murderers
done gone
melancholy
in the moonlight.
It's midnight.
The perfect time
to commit a crime.

Here's to premeditated drug dealing.
And everything else that can get me
a one way ticket.
To the Devil's bed-room.

The world's got a
pistol,
pin pointed
perfectly,
between
my
hazy/hazel
eyes
gaze.

Pull the trigger
or surrender
yourself
*****.

You can't **** what has
already defeated the "life-time"

So,
**** it.
Or,
**** it.

Load it up
aim
& fire,
only burns  
people in formal attire.

Bang.
Bang.
Boom.
Joke's on you
I'm already
d-e-a-d.

Floating up, down
round the realms.
To no-where land.

A place where
nothing matters
.
It's a real,
place to be.

Living in the freedom
of a "promised" land,
within the comfort of your mind.

I'd like to go there.

People are
either,
misread,
misunderstood,
misinterpreted,
or simply
not meant for this
time.
Retardation,
shouldn't be
allowed to exist.
For, putting
limitations on someone
that is amazing in
it's own right.
Is like judging
a
book
by it's cover.
In the real world,
judges
were supposed
to
bring justice
for those
who have been
jacked
off,
in the wrong way.
Somewhere
**** god bad.
Let's make it better.

Blocking out the past.
Rewriting Today.
**** tomorrow, it may never come.
I don't make mistakes,
I learn from everything.  
Detox is hell in its own right.
But, addiction is the suicide process
in its finest form.
Ten years flew by
and four years drag on.
I'm hurt, angry, and terrified.
But I'll be just fine.



.

I'm looking up at
nothing
but a black cloudy sky.

Guess, we better grab
our umbrellas.
&
Rock our rain coats.

It's going to rain......

Torrential, tear-storms
until the Angels below us
feel a little higher.

</3
</3
</3

Feeling worthless is a popular trend and I'm not even sure I want to sit at the community table.
Comparing apples to oranges gets really ******* old.
These days I'd rather just be alone.
Safe in my thoughts.
Reality is far more rosey over here.

Rums got me runnin'
back into those arms.

Behind them
head light eyes,
lies
a different story.

This fifths got me
walkin' the plank.
"Captains" orders.

Psychic Vampires.
I'm just a social leech
after everything
I can **** on.
No pun intended.
Even vegetarians,
crave blood
every now and then.
Got a glass?
I got fangs,
we could really make something out of this.
You know,
I'm only pale cause I work midnights.
I won't sparkle in the sun,
unless the diamonds in my nose rings do.
Black on black
everything must be black.
I always look like I'm going to a funeral,
but I'm just an agent of death.
Not a paulbearer.
I'm not the anti Christ,
he hasn't even been born yet.
So calm yo'self,
or I'll have my
Daddy buy your soul.
& you can come play
with all the fire in
our back yard ;)
So shut your bibles up
and open up your minds.

& Oh,
my frost bitten
lungs,
lose their breath.
In all of your
nostalgic air.

It's a scary/cut/throat
feeling on a cool,
November morning.

But I swear to you,
have never seemed so clear
to me.

Maybe, I'm just
day-dream-dream-dreaming
again.

But I swear,
the frost clouds of cigarette
smoke you blew in my face,
Yesterday.
Looked just like a flock of
upside down <3's.

Just some
secret-smoke-signals
from across the state.

If you were here
&
they were gone.

Someday,
that's a wonderful
thought.

I'm tired of
being
******* over.
No, I don't
wanna *****
uhh
screwdriver.

Get out of
the shed.
Ya ******'
tool.

Feeling worthless is a popular trend
these days, it's hard to tell.
Who is your friend
and who is your foe.
Trying to turn the other cheek
is proving to be one of the hardest things,
I've ever done.

******* is the only thing getting shoved down our throats.
I'd rather have some viccoden. Please.
You don't need a masters degree,
to lie like a professional.
Just let your words slither off your
tongue
like a snake in the grass.
Constrict the situation.
Boa constrictors can teach you anything.
I swear on your god.

No matter how many miles separate us.
If you never speak to me again.

At least, I can take comfort in knowing
that when you've had your fill.
Faith lost, hope vanished from your heart
without a trace.
I know,
you'll look to the stars.
Only to see tens of thousands of them;
shinning brightly on the darkest nights.
Just for you.

And if this life is just meant to be a realm of torture.
A realm of apathy and discontent.
I find peace within my heart knowing
I'll be looking at the same sky, too.

When you are
sitting in an empty room,
waiting for a call,
that you know is
never gunna come.

When you're  
sick of having
to hurt yourself
just to feel anything at all.

When you are literally,
a butterfly-heart
staring into a spider's eyes.
Caught in the web of
a mess much larger than
your deepest fears.
Remember, **** gets better.

If I am the piece of
****
you're trying to convince me I am,
then why haven't you
gotten sick of the small
&
flushed me out of your life?
You can keep pleading your case
but you have to have the evidence
to back your story up.
It's all
a bunch of.
Loose ends
&
Sad Flaky *****.
This
won't hold up in court.

Just go
have some fun
with a gun.
Already.

You really,
need to either,
shoot some sense
in-to yourself.

Or just shut your
big-broke, skanky-twanky
clap-trap up.

I can't decipher
your motives.

Your self written sermons
are stained with **** & cynicism.

SO
take care of the problem.

BEFORE I
take care of it for you.

At this "time",

every piece of matter has a synthetic form.

legality has its perks.

But if you were thinking that the legal route,

was more beneficial.

I'm sorry, but you were misinformed.

Well since you gave me the idea,
I'll just to my alley of worship
to sing hymns of ecstasy and ****,
to glorify the power of  my all mighty drug dealer,
with the rest of my burnt out, strung out congregation.
A few beers doesn't make you an alcoholic
it means you were thirsty.
Before you read the rlab report.
Do you mind if I make a drink?
I wasn't going to show,
but our blood has bound us to the familial microscope.
Blacking out the ******* with the facts that proove you wrong dancing on the tip of tougne.
Your wasting my time.
I'll be the gentleman and I'll hold the door open for you.
Now walk right out of my life.

Running in a race
of empty hallways, dead ends and hangovers.
Lobotamizing myself for the time being.
Like Spring the sun will always rise
to end the suffering  of days that
seem to never end.
Clocks never seem to work in our favor.
Even if we are on schedule.
**** it,
I'll just flip a coin and carry on.
The silver said tails.
I guess I'll just catch you on the astral plane.

The ship was
getting
closer and closer
to us
&
the safe-sandy shores.

Safety.
Healthy
at
long lifetime's last.


Midnight was coming close,
so they
took our candles
&
they took our matches.
&
tried to start a fire.

It would have worked.
If the doctors,
would have
noticed that
they
lit the
wrong wick.

Wish they would have
quit,
pretending to be
god-all-mighty
know-it-all's.

For a hot minute
to look and see
the fuse
they
actually ignited.

Ch-ch-chain
reaction.
In a real-life
action movie like
Implosion.

Explosion.
Decaying.
Dying.
Crawling.

I am
Sinking.
Our ship is sinking.

A break down
happened in the <3
of the ship's
circuit board.



This is how
drowning at the bottom
of a
Sad Sea
feels like.

Seeing parts of your life
blended in with the debris.

Hello, to the aftermath
of an
"accidental" explosion.
Created by a
self-detonating
toxic/atomic
bomb.

It
Broke the ****-Star-Board.
It
Broke my *******-<3
as well.

But even though,
I am ship-less
and stranded.

The ship still has four anchors above water.
Even though, the ship itself
is underneath the water.

I'am,
what i am.
The lowkey Siren.

Lemme sing you a song.
While I place a curse on
your mayflower.
And drag us all down.

Captain,
I'm not one to **** with.

Under the borderline sun.
I'm a career psychopath.
Working from home.
Beneath the ground.

I once called home.

Fairy wing's
are
Karma's
curse,
for the
crooked-twins-on the left.

O'
the
dark-side
of the womb.

I had a twin Sister.
Until
she ate all of our food.
So I ,
I ate her.
Instead.

But she got the last laugh.
I got the curse
&
she got a martyrs
v.i.p
pass up to heaven.

Who's the bigger fish now?

Snails leave their shells
when their bodies have
out grown them.
People leave their shells behind too.
When the soul
outgrows the
body.

People are like snails,
slimy and gross
on
the
outside.
Hopefully we're better on the inside.

We're all just torturing ourselves
for greater social gratification.
For people I do not know or even care about.
Feeling worthless is a popular trend.
And I am exhausted.
I don't want to be social anymore.

Bound to the darkness

of reality ,

Until The Sun

wakes up and

sets me free.

I don't know

what I want;

but I know

I don't want her.

My apology

was slurred

by the true suffering

of seeking your forgiveness.

It takes an

addict to know an addict.

How well do you know yourself these days?

I'm ****** up because you ****** me up,

What's your excuse?

The basement is empty

but theres always something to do

on the fifth floor.

I'm always upstairs,

if you catch my drift.




.

When our <3's
spread their
butterfly-free-flying wings.

Just fly-high,
up & away to  
an atmosphere
of good thoughts.

Good things never last.

If you get caught in the web
of a monster;
that is much
larger
than the hungry, ***** spider
you were running away from.
In the first place.

Just remember **** gets better.
&
Sometimes we all feel like this.

I'm kind of like neon darkness.

Black is the new
everything
&
everyone,
shares the same

lucid,
translucent,
illuminate

dead-day-dreams.

Sorry, for
spiking the punch.
But it isn't a party
until someone passes out.

Find the weakest link.
**** em' up
&
leave them behind
to die.

Dried up
on the side of the
road.

A hit & run
on the highway home.

Sometimes, you have to
strip

down,
down,
down.

to the
lowest
of
places
just to break yourself even.
</3

**** gets better.
<3

Let's have a
photo shoot!

Its "time" to take
some snap shots
of your
soul.

You've been given;

10 years
&
10 frames.

To capture
that
sandy second,
minute.

Before it slides down,
to the very
bottom of
the hour glass.


Click-click-click
&
I'm Counting

3

2

1

smile.

The world is your
photographer.
&
The people
around you will
play
pretend
paparazzi!

More often than
you've been told to believe.

More often than
they say.

Fate only allows the most
Humble of hearts,
Driven of dreamers,
& the purest of souls.
To rise to the occasion
and take the thrown.
Three cheers
three cheers
the
Evil
King
is
DEAD.

Thinkers
think & ***** up.
Doers
do & sometimes make it work.
Just turn off your brain and
let your heart
do the thinking.
It's most likely in
the right house anyways.

Soul Spit
Soul Script.
If worse comes to worse
at-least I have the ***** to find out.

Well, I don't need no injections.
I take my meds on time.
I don't need no injections.
I haven't done no crime.

I'm just a little moody.
And that's okay with me.
I don't need no injections.
******* and let me be.

I've got the Celiac.
It's making me a maniac.
I'm in a ******* mood.
Don't mess with my food.

You'll probably get assaulted

I gazed into the abyss.
Only to see a demon,
staring back at me.

The ghost.
Of someone I was never meant to be.
In the first place.

Aren't we all just knocking
on open doors
I'm not home right now.
Try again later.

Trust is like a personality.
Broken, evenly.
You say, I trust everyone
but you.

I'm kind of split in judgement anyways.
But I can't keep up with who you're trying to be today.

Stitchin' up a
Snitch's ******.
So he don't
steal or
snitch out someone
that had nothing to do with
his something
or another.

Guess, I'll quit acting so ****
bipolar.
When,
you quit acting like
a lazy,
Lil' Liar.

You blew it.
&
Messed everything up for me.

So
I'll just hit you back
&
**** your **** up.

So you don't have to
do it.
Yourself.
</3

if you we're really dead,
you would have seen the burning caterpillars,
become butterflies.
you're only living if you're seeing suffering.
death is merely a promise that everything works out in the end.

i was shooting for angels,
but i wound up hitting saints.

Please excuse me,
as I take a chance
to try and con the ones who have conecended us.
As I slide down
my verbal pole of innocence.
Slithering, crawling, hungry and horney.
Strutting around the club,
looking for fame,
so I can give him a lap dance
and go down on HIStory.

You told me to pick a card
& I chose the Star.
One day, Some day,
I will outshine all of your darkness.

I met fate at a *******.
We're all diamonds, just some of us are in the rough.


IT GET'S BETTER.

Hate flows,
free through her blood.
Infecting every *****.

First,
with her heart,
then her brain.

A deranged, heartless *****,
with all the power.

Succubi.
Queen of Bloodshed.
Harlot of Satan.

Swing dancing murderers
& ball-room assassins.
Seek her out, on
the dance floor.
To, get a chance to Swing Dance with Lucy, herself.

Good men will fall down to evil.
Slowly dancing and stabbing  
pretty, young girls.
Under the noses of their wives.

To save their,
lost souls
from the belly of the beast.

Covered in their blood, sweat & glitter,
the Party Princesses are slain
by the Princes of Poverty.
Cause they weren't getting pity ******.

Welcome,
to the
Fabulous Lifestyle
of the
Wonderful,
Magical,
Spit-Catching
Idiot-Magnets.

The World
is just a bed
full of.
Roaches,
Leaches
and everything else parasitic.

That only want
to drag you down
&
****-****-****.
What little
life is left,
with-in,
you're half-way
dead.

Still-breathing corpse.

Good luck!
To you,
Kind Soul.

I hope the World ends,
before it can take-break- away
your sugar-sweetness.

Lemon-drops
Always taste bitter
even if their rims are coated with sugga.

Sugar is better
off alone
sometimes.

End of Poem.