i play guitar because it expresses what i cant
it's second nature and i love it
the notes are words and i just choose the words to phrase my sentence
it cries in high pitches and growls in the bass
my strings don't break but communication barriers do.
i like being technical because it's a unique appeal
it has variety

i'd cry for help but these days i can't cry
i'd ask for your assistance but it seems like i'm losing my voice
i'd go to the clinic but it seems that all the appointments are booked
i'd take pills.......NOOOOO i don't medicate
i'd move out of harms way but i'm too petrified to do so
i just realized my actions are harms way.
i'm not going to run away from my self

you cut me off...

like a ****** does their blood supply...just give me a hit
like a rock climber does to an unnecessary weight
like a cell phone signal going through a tunnel...this provider *****...can you hear me now?
like a chef does to the unwanted edge of an onion...no one eats this **** lol
like an ADHD child hyped on sugar does to their surrounding others
like the zoo does to animals from their native habitat
like a **** would a family from their loved ones
like a barber would to a hippie asking for a fresh fade...hold on let me just take some acid, forget to shower and protest against human rights...right on man
like a serial killer from their emotions
like a surgeon would to an untreated tumor harnessing a body part
like a TV station does to a failed pilot no one laughs at....HAHAHA not funnnyy...hilariouuuss

you cut me off....but i don't know if i can let go.

temptation the salivation....steaks running wild in our imagination
not the child from the third world country they dreams of rice and clean water, suffering from stomach inflammation
no more hesitation
regrets never earn commemoration, but persevere via faulty dedication

don't hesitate just act.....because then the outcome will be exact, that's a fact we remember in countless situational drafts

there is the draft of the cold breeze, she quivers at her knees as i whisper warm air into her ear canal, she smiles due to a warming sensation which intrigues
ear canal turned into an air tunnel resembling the structure of a funnel that we take for granted
my words produce air currents
harsh winds torment us as hurricanes wreaking havoc on all life and sound structures
gentle breezes persuade us to befriend the outdoors and our surroundings
initiate relief and relaxation
breezes accumulate into strong winds escalating into hurricanes
be careful not to let a breeze take hold of you; for we never know where the wind truly goes

i dare not to unleash a tempest upon my tranquil waters because i know i will be it's final victim

i like pudding pops,
stopped by the cops until people drop from bottom to top
hip hop the land of the shops where people roam around in lofts
laura croft
laura secord
charlie sheen on ramblin notes
chocolate
pocket book take another look at the missing pages where the cover ages
spells of sages used against friendly wages and devious mages
turn the pages
page 1
page 2
page 3
page 4
too many galore for

she's killing me....but she's not even in arms reach

sometimes i just want the **** kicked out of me
i want my arm twisted and pushed as i yell PLEASE STOOPP
i want to hear the crackling of my bones are slowly converted to a sudden percussive snap
i want to hear the tearing of my muscle fibers and see it like ripping apart fine strings of yarn
i want you to kick me until internal bleeding seems like an everyday thing....kinda like saying hi to your neighbor
i want my organs rearranged, my liver can be in the region of my brain and my brain can be used to play keep ups with my foot (like soccer)
i want you to take my face and pulverize it against concrete/brick until its fine bone and then it's just the friction between hard calcium and limestone
and when i plead for MERCYYY PLEEASE i want you to call an accomplice and use their hands to torment me as well
light me with kerosene and matches and watch me burn and my skin blister.....and then i want you to put me out just to give me hope....and then reignite the initial flame
i want you kick me in the ***** so hard they invert into ovaries.
i just want to find peace.
but i don't want you to **** me....i just want to be taught a lesson for my outrageous, provocative actions.
maybe then i will be humble
maybe then i will be pure.

if i die at least all my impurities will die with me or will they live on in the actions of others.
can we ever be pure?