I was one too.
Taking pleasure in pains of the
Past; addicted nearly, to the
Pity and attention
Of others.

Now I keep it locked away.
Private pearls of an adventure life,
Wounds long healed;
Faded scars. My smiles now deserved.
I wish the same contentment

To all those others, the
Happy unhappy. Who can only
Recognize themselves
In broken
Mirrors.

I gathered on my desk all were in my head
on my desk
I stood on my head and still
none were three-dimensional
So, asleep, I saw you again.

She's getting tattooed by
My brother. He locked us in to
His studio just to give her
Her Christmas present
In ink.

Now she's tipsy with French
Red bottled painkillers,
And my brother keeps telling her
To sit still every thirty odd
Seconds.

He's about to cut it down to
Every tenth.
Outside, people try the studio
Door, thinking it's open, but
No.

This is the time for the special.
Oslo day turns into night,
Neon dances, beggars get more
Intense, and in the middle of it
All, I glance over my

Carlsberg at her long, long black
Hair dyed red at the tips,
And think something to myself
That rhymes with home, but
Not alone.

There's something about drinking
A little beer on a Monday.
The moon and stars look down at
Us; their slightly lost,
Most beloved children, and

Dream Theater sing Pull
Me Under, as I think that
She might have done so by
Just about *******
Now.

March smart to the beat of the drums boys
March toward the sound of the guns
There's a battle yet to be fought boys
Before we can return to our homes
The dead now lie in rows boys
Cut down by the shot and the shell
But the enemy will turn and run boys
When they hear the rebel yell
Find the courage in your hearts boys
Although this day is lost
You fought and died so bravely boys
Was it really worth the cost?
So few of us are left boys
Sorely hurt, ravaged by pain
So many of us died boys
For what? For us there was no gain
Mothers, wives and sweethearts boys
In so many homes do grieve
They said we would be in for three months boys
Now so many will from here never leave

Rest In Peace boys

The shot girl laced up her corset,
pressing brand new *******
into their vice for the night.

A Malthusian belt for shot glasses
and a holster for change
that conceals pepper spray.

She holds herself by the mirror,
reflecting a room of text books,
post-its, and old stuffed animals.

She kisses her palm to own her body,
before it is decomposed by eyes
and laid claim to by countless hands.

Her boss took issue with her skirt;
that it shows “too little leg”,
reversing all she'd been taught before.

She had a birthmark on her thigh,
and thought if nothing else,
she wanted possession of that.

For one more night, she says,
she'll flirt for a living,
for one more night, she says,
she'll numb herself.

Life's your own boomerang
Shoots you forward
Flings you back
Its no wonder with this lurch
That im a crippled insomniac
Its whack
How i take a few steps forward
Only to get smacked
In the head
Maybe i dont have enough street cred
On this path of Life
Its no wonder im a **** head
Cuts the anxiety like a knife
Couldnt wake up from this limbo
Couldnt fall asleep to dream
Only stuck in this middle space
Gotta survive by a solo team
So ill go on shooting forward
remember where i return
Makes the next wound a bit easier
Less strong of a burn
Doesnt mean im going backwards
Just means i must revert
To this origin
This oneness
And my mode of thinking
I must convert.

I'm going to throw up I'm going to faint I'm going to hit the floor and let the blood pound pound pound in my head like a ******* drum like the one that our good friend Chris plays.
And I'm going to cry and I'm going to scream and I'm going to tear out my skin and my eyes will burn red like a sunrise like the sunrise we watched that morning when I gave you everything.
I'm going to hit the wall with my fists and yell and yell until my throat is raw and "why did I fall so ******* deep oh my gosh HOW WAS I SO STUPID SO. *******. Stupid."
I can't even type because my hands are shaking and my head is pounding and my chest is heaving and I'm going to throw up. I'm going to throw up.