Gonna be a trail of tears
for the ***** that cried wolf.
Gonna scalp his white  hair,
and chuck his body off the roof.
And when he hits the ground
his spirit guide will show up.
To say he wouldn't be dead
if is *** had shut up.
Old ******* die hard
but for him it'd be a mercy.
His only joy in life
is posting weak *** verse.
The burial ground
were I leave him won't be cursed.
How we did the Cherokee was bad,
but what's in store for him is worse.

I knew you would forget, just as soon as the sun would rise,
But your words, cliché and hollow, came as no surprise.
I asked but one small favor, at both break and close of day,
Just to hear you say hello, but now, hope's bled away.

Emptiness Is

Palms covered in little crescents
Your fingernails digging in to distract you
From the fact that your ribs are a cage
Without a bird.

Her pain…
My knees are blistered
Hands clenched, white knuckles
My thoughts echo in my head
Over and over
Can’t you hear me…pleading

Her pain…
I’ve carved initials in imaginary trees
Wrote poems in fresh blood
Cried for no reason…yes reasons
My breath is heavy on my chest
I stare up…up…up

Her pain…
I am weaker, yet still strong
Singing promises in off tempo phrases
Drowning in sanded fears
Clutching my heartstrings
Dreaming nightmare blemishes

Her pain…
I have done the best I can
Smiled when I couldn’t
Laughed as I frowned
Collapsed against my well wishes
Screaming to the heavens

Her pain…put it all on me, all on me, all on me, all on me