monotony
has sunken
and broken me
piece by piece
this dismal
abyssmal drag

smoke that i pull
making life pour
into a paper cup
stuck with pins
and left out
in the open
for when it rains

its no concern
because my brain
it cant discern
****** needles
and happy titters
from gnarly shivers
and ghastly sniffers

its the curse
subhuman almost
theres no purpose
i grow in riches
but tar black pus
secretes from my soul

such is life

do u wanna get high?

Manic energy
Heads ******* banging
Aggressive freedom of the senses
Happiness plus hatred

liberation of this pent up energy
Double kick bass loudly, sound breaking

Fast paced high squealing notes

Stop.

Down breaks the hellish tempo

It’s time to smash faces,
Break bones in many places

A circular ritual of anger and sweat.
A trotting stampede of mindless freaks
All of them a ball of feelings hard like bricks

Surprise!

Concussion blast
Downed metal head comrade
Near a ****** foldable chair
Bleeding through his brain dome
Coughing asking for a still
memento of himself

Music halts and dust settles.

Uno, dos, tres, cuatro
Next title cueing
Freaks all cheering
Smells like ****, blood and sweat drippings

Feedback through the amps.

wall of death opens briskly
all hell breaks loose

Feral eyes moving quickly
Our Viking hearts
Fight for dignity
Or die honorably

valkiries above the mosh pit
and a glimpse of Odin

Hammer smashed face.
club swung to my back
Whiplash.

I woke up in my backyard.
Sore back, ribs broken
And a beer in my hand.
Hell of a night man

if being the best that one can be
isn't enough for the self
then the next step is non-existent
limitless possibilities are inhibited
and a finite number is set

if being the best that one can be
realizing worthlessness IS
sentience over our own humanity
granting us control over nothing
and still witness life as an illusion

being the best that one can be
resets expectations
a thought can change our choices
leaving the self in doubt
giving a chance to existence
so that it may follow the cycle
only to progress on

to its own oblivion

laying in bed, blue...
listenin'... listenin' to the blues.
all this wine, nothing it finds.
oh, but a love of old.

holdin' down a cry i realize, i...
i realize ashes try and revive
these blues, all of them true.
holds my heart together with glue

ah the ol' blues.
this love aint what it was
but it still kicks back with sass.
man i tell you what, she was all that.

thrills of a life past though
it was thorough
left ma heart feelin'
almost bleedin' in a burrow...

layin' in bed, blue...
fallin' to dream land
to remember what could've.
been true...

an euphoric feeling this
like flutterin' butterflies yeah
thinkin' of death, smilin'

right now, typin' this
it tingles and ascends
up but not out

weak and feeble this
a moment can start it
and end it too

strange as it may
there's no yearnin'
there's no will

plain ol', curiosity this.
'cos life, tis' but
dust in the wind

i tried letting go of my own duality
of past memories and
self destructive manners
not that i failed but
rather knelt at its majesty
acknowledging its existence
reducing my humanity to hubris

seems unreal to me that
a part of us can foresee chaos
and that our other half decides to ignore
because our inflated egos
need constant assurance to exist
eroding the knot that
ties us to erroneous morality

a human conundrum at best
we can try nonetheless

hello there, didnt see you
actually yeah, i saw you
with your feelings all over
romping and stomping

here, there, anywhere
you write on walls
cardboard and pads
do you want to say someting?
it seems like you do
sadly, this world overflows
with people similar to me
that care enough to hear
but not to listen

you might be this too
as we are mostly twos
theres more out there
morality, ambiguity
duality, promiscuity
cloves flowers and shovels
fires, pyres
death and smiles

i'll stop with love
halt on despair
with black dark sadness
dark sad blackness

stop

theres more to life
shooting stars
constellations, nebulas
mars and moons
time space
and e=mc2

hello? oh...
its ok to walk away
we're all used to this anyway

ayer saque tus memorias de paseo
de la mano caminamos por viejos senderos
oliendo flores buscando amparo
en juegos, recuerdos y amores
donde la alegria imperaba y tambien moría

contamos petalos llenos de pudor
y sus colores de dolor
acariciando nubes de locura
anduvimos riendonos del sabor viejo de la amargura

ya viendo el ocaso
las ternuras marchitaban
tu sombra lloraba y mi mano soltaba

se rompía

veia como se dividia en par
por que la puesta del sol me recibía

ahí la dejé entre llantos y sonrisas
balbuceando un arrullo sin matiz
al rato solo los coquís se oían
y con su canto borraban
tu sombra de raíz
en mi vida

These words hold on
to the last thread
of your existence
in my life

as you persist
in all the planes
of my mind

it is long
almost infinite
dear Elysium
dont forget me

i will strongly grasp
the erroded clasps
of our chain

until roots sprout
from my veins
let us be
soul and air
again and again

here I sit, as I have
countless times, yeah

with liquid bread
and my thoughts
for my self

I peered into my empty bottle
realizing I spent hours
admiring a craft
mostly flawed
but revered by many

as perfection creeps
cloaked she already knows
she is unreachable and lonely

I bet God feels the same way

as I uncap another vessel
I realize that it is twenty four past two
so I sketch a few moments
but a few moments now
permanent on my sketch book

time I won't get back
and I can see it
it's ink, a doodle
on a worthless piece of paper

I stare at my text
this and these are moments
I wont get back

so much for perfection.

I hope God isnt as lonely
because it's sad
even with a all these humans
loneliness finds a way
always disguised
unflawed

Title: tryin'

i struggle every day like the rest
problem is, i ain't.
this but a test to prove myself and conquer
places i havent been deep in my abyss
lamenting what couldve been
i ****** up feeling like a would've been, i shouldve been
a proponent of my own benefit
i cried said i tried, but the shoe wouldn't fit
and when it did, heaven screamed
kicked and stomped on my heel
it dreamed, failure wouldn't bend
a problem i couldn't tend,
lets say i couldn't pay its rent

i struggle every day like the rest
problem is, i ain't. this but a test
to make and break the bread that will set you free
of dreams only known to people with the cream

be beautiful, bold and stupid
study hard, be bards,
tell tales of truth, blues and values

cos life is short,
this aint nothin but a walk in gods remorse

I often question the reason for my existence
why I depend and others depend on me

I often question why my humanity depends on things, physical or not

My wants and needs are but fleeting specks of the tiniest time measurement in the universe

What can i possibly accomplish in the widest spectrum of things

To become better if not impossibly perfect?

To help another soar through life amazingly?

If, and only if I, as a human can accomplish absolute humility

Because as an animal i feel my existence is but a blade of grass in the garden of natural selection

Most of my regret comes from my meager path towards accrementition

The illusion taught from birth that only the best conquer and others are but cogs of your clock.

sticking out like a broken bone, rest assured that life wont **** you.
At the very least it will most likely shatter whatever crumb of happiness emanated from your soul.

For death is only momentary

...And life is too.