Chili Powder infiltrates my kitchen
Oh boy Oh boy This is bitchen
I Flip the switch to Domestic Housewife
sharp knifes and measuring cups
I reach untop of the stove
to Find my Spatula
Flip my meat I got cooking
check the clock
as my buzzer rings
I stir the crock ***
My onions are suateed
My face is melting
But cooking
relieves me
I know that this will all pay off
when my friends walk in
Super Bowl Sunday
Even Jesus would sport sweatpants and his favorite teams Jersey

Making subs
Tomatos and mayo
one swipe and a sprinkle of lettuce
Busy away filling the oregeno tub
I hear the door ring
and in walks this drop dead gorgeous girl
I instantly say hello
she's so gorgeous I nearly fall on my face.
I notice her collar bones
something about a girls collar bones
drives me crazy
as she talk  tells me what to do
my mind races to me sprawling her out over this sandwhich making table
lettuce and mayo everywhere haha that'd be the **** but instead I finish her sandy and watch her walk out the door. Luckily I took some mental pictures

Little missels
Sparklie crystals
jedi mind tricks
play in my bedroom
I spy the pill jar
with a little bud waiting to be broken down and rolled.
I lick the blunt
and crack it down
tabacoo spinkels and covers my floor
I grasp the bud and crack it in half
and the stink of it overwhelms my automosphere.
The song skips and tupac all eyes on me stars playing
as I begin to roll the bud I get a since of joy and happiness
that soon ill be blitzed
I know I got good bud
because when I do my dog wobbels in to enjoy it.
I spark it and that little popping noise of the dank thc circles me.
I take a big drag but carefully so the cherry doesn't get to long

Wrestle to find the light switch
Dancing
can't find the light switch
**** this
unzip
ahhhhh
oh ****
forgot to lift the toliet seat up

The worlds never truly silent
turn off your television and just listen
tires rolling over the iced streets outside
the buzzing of the street light
the pitter patter of a gutter next door
streaming water
as the water runs down the side of the curb
like children in a playground
it dances and laughs its way to the open drain
I lite my cigarette and blow a big cloud towards the stars
I here the airplanes in the sky passing by
and a cat hisses at something in a dark corner
As I inhale again I can here my lungs fill up with the toxic aroma
and I taste the smoke under my finger nails as a chew them off.
I here the sound of feet and look across the street two young kids holding hands walking
I try to eaves drop on their conversation but the cars passing bye blocks my attempt at spying on them. I can here what their saying to eachother as I see them both smiling "it's cold out here.. but your warm" I'm jealous almost and just as I think this my ciagrette burns me and brings me back to the echo of the town. I toss the burnt end and here it land in a puddle I watch as it gets taken away down along the side of my house. were all a generation of the television society and left out brains on the couch as we stuff our faces full of patato chips and useless tv programs. When the real entertainment waits for us outside. where the music of the world is waiting to be heard. Instead we click our remotes and fall into a trance of law and order tv programs and violence upon violence school shootings and who the next mass ****** is a sick twisted form of entertainment. I guess listening to the world got so boring...... I guess I'm the only one who sees the world as a untamed ochestra waiting to be composed into a lovely sympathy. On mistro On you play for your little sounds are not useless I here you playing and strumming the world is perfectly in tune if you just listen.

today I realized that I'm perfect with who I'am
atlast in my life I know who I'am
What things im good at and what I need to work on
IM NOT PERFECT
infact im fragile and weak
I'm scared of knowing so much about myself
It's the truth
I KNOW who I can become
either good or bad
I know what the future holds
for my good decisions or my bad
If only today myself could talk to the young boy who struggled so long
trying to be someone he was not.
I'd tell that boy to not follow the crowd that he thought was so cool
That to listen to your mother
to stay away from the drugs
even if the other kids called him a loser for not playing along
The really unique kids are the ones who dont follow the normal teenage rebellion
the real rebels are the ones who study hard
hang out alone
and even wish they could go out and get hammered drunk and puke everywhere
or sleep with a random girl not for love but just for ***.
But they dont
I want to tell my rebel self to be a true rebel like those kids
the kids who later on in life
will have money to go out and enjoy the things I enjoyed as a rebel teenager
to be able to hang out with there grown up friends and to fun doing grown up things.
Instead I'm a 24 year old sandwhich artist
the teachers always said keep partying you'll look back and regret these days
I told them they'll regret saying that when I make it big
years of writing
years of sitting up late with a bottle of ***** and a lit cigarette
like my life a long ash forms off the cherry as it burns waiting for the whieght of itself to break off.
I KNOW who I'am
I'm a voice for this plugged in generation
I'm the sticky **** on the bottom of your shoe
I'm the viper in a room full of gardner snakes
I'm the demon with a halo
a hybrid of a soul
hell hound instincts
but a butterflys swagger
soft but hard
sweet but sour
I'm the reason for a middle
im the reason why things stay balanced
for not for people like me
the Balanced
the Beaten
the hardened and the Understanding
the Counter Attack
the person who has seen the roughest parts in life
has been down to pennys to his name
Im here to tell you dont give up
because even during the rain the sun can shine
those days amaze me
when its pouring but sunny
Does it make since no
but do we watch in amazement when it happens
yes
That my friends is me
thats who I'am

Little tiny clippings of nails
scattered on the floor
my temper is angry
and I cant hold it no more
do you see my eyes bulging
my hands cluntched tightly
my breathing is heavy
and there holes in the door
I taste the blood trickling
it drips on the floor
one drip
two trips
a thrid
and a fourth
I loose track of my cigarette
now its all scorched
Im pacing and racing
troubled for ever more
I throw my beer can off the back of the porch
and torch up a bowl
to cure my pulsing heart
my knuckles crack as I press them to my face
I see the bruises swelling
thier purples green and blues
mix ever so nicely like a sharp beat up suit
do you understand the torture
of knowing you'll die
when the ***** runs out
and your shivering at night
I smell the puke tried in my nose
and see it all running down the side of my clothes
when oh when will I understand
that **** almighty I'm just like my dad
a drunken soar ******* a **** for the juice
I've burnt down ever bridge and managed to make some up too
I'm a chamleaon to this world
I change and I move
I'm not much of a lier though
thats once thing I could never do
I could run this on forever
Till the sun comes threw my shutter
but I just popped some perocets and sniffed some Speacil K
so I suppose this poem was great
but tomarrow is anew and my fate awaits
farewell
farewell
farewell