Two wrongs don’t make a right
But I don’t just let things slide.
So when all is quiet at night
You better run and hide,
Cuz I know my actions will be justified.
And justice I assure you will be served.
Not an ounce of guilt runs through me
You’ll get what you deserve.
Your blood will drip off my hands, warm and red
As I stand over your body, lifeless and dead.
Don’t **** with my kin is a lesson he learned.
Shoulda learned a bit sooner, now that sinners gonna burn.
And boy you better hope God saves me when I die
Cuz if he don’t, Satan will be last on your mind.
I’ll torture you, over and over for what you done.
Be your own personal devil, and have a little fun.
I’ll be your hell inside of hell where there is no getting out.
Just an eternity of me laughing while you scream and shout.

Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused.

- Alan Cohen

Heard this today and really liked it.

Into the nights watch I drift away.
Today has been a curse but I pray tomorrow a blessing.
My mind wanders, imagining an angel from my past.
An angel who seems to be the ghost of my present.
The more perfect they are the worse that they haunt you,
And she might have well been Casper breathing down my neck.
A memory when I wake. A memory before I dream.
A constant reminder of what could have been.
A'las I wake, deep in a sweat of discomfort and realize,
That it cannot, will not, ever, be.

As hammers pound away above my head and the worker bees shuffle to keep in pace with a singsong hymn, you know that I am lost. Lost in a world of dreams and magic. Distracted by my own enchanted daydream I lose sight of reality as it truly exists. My reality is bland and full of repetition but at night, when the moon comes out and the stars shine, anything becomes possible. I feel your warmth. Your arms tight around my mid section. Your heartbeat pounding like a drum as you rest your weary head in the nook between my shoulder. The gentle tickle of your fingers caressing my arm and I once again feel alive. Feel your love. Just a taste of your existence and I need more. Call me an addict because that’s not far from the truth. I feed my addiction with a box full of memories and a slumber that makes my day feel inferior. Why wake up? Why, ever, wake up?

These dreams used to be beautiful. Now they are just nightmares of a past I used to know.

For you I would break my back. This fire in my soul that flickers for you whole, it burns like a torch lighting my way. There are no words no lyrics no psalms that can ease this pain but like a lighthouse is to a boat you still guide my way. The rain, the storm that stirs within halts only momentarily at the touch of your skin. Your skin, but a dream passing by. Back in reality by my lonesome, my lonesome and I.