Zero, is the name of my poor
poor
bass guitar
Zero scratched into the neck of this guitar
born with a permanent scar
born into my arms
as Zero

I'm so sorry zero
that i beat my why's into you
And even that why eludes
my reasoning

I beat you so mercilessly
you must be so scared
why am i afraid
of the callouses i have made
in place of answers

WHY did you **** her?
WHY do her scars burn?
WHY is she so scared?
WHY did her clothes tear?
WHY is her mind gone?
WHY can't she sing songs?
WHY did she go back?
WHY can't you hold back?
AND WHY does every time her skin crack

she is terrified to see your putrid face.
your ******* putrid face

WHY does every victim blame themselves?
WHY can't they realize there is help?
WHY do you take their power away?
AND WHY does saying

"it's going to be okay"

never ever
make it okay

Zero i beat you because i have
Zero power and
Zero ability to stop the
Zeros who keep hurting the girl who sold you to me for
Zero dollars, yet i insisted so she carved
Zero into the neck and i told you that you weren't a
Zero and that you were
Priceless

For the same reason she is priceless
because she is an instrument
and you both sing beautifully
And i swore to play your strings softly
because she speaks so softly

But now he took away her voice
And i have to play louder
and Louder and
LOUDER
so she can finally sing

enough
is
enough

Zero why won't she sing no?
Please let her sing no
end the pain and just let her sing
no

I wish i could ask someone this question
"is god so bad?"
without hearing a pre-programmed
yes
or no

i want to hear the gears shifting
and see their eyes lifting towards the sky
with one small tear drop
because they accidentally gazed at the sun

You know
the familiar face of thought spiders
spinning webs until all is said and spun

and i want them to ask me why i asked
a question that has no answer

why i asked a question
whose only purpose is to demonstrate how right i am

why i'm so pompous

i want to be left speechless

I have fallen prey to the sirens song
Not just anyone, everyone
EVERY single chanted lyric slowly licking  my neck
And whispering in my ear in a sultry language
little lies, little spears
but lately my willpower has been lingering longer
in places where i cannot reach it
and i tend to wake to find a warm outline
laying next to me, singing sweetly
And ****
that warmth is beautiful
hot like a fire that i wished burned all over my body last night
but didn't

Though her voice touched me in ways i won't tell my children

A maidens song is a teasing whisper of what could be
with every word her spirit reaches out
brings you to your knees
and breathes through you sinfully
ghostly hair falling on your shoulders
as you fall upon her
your heart beat beating to the beat of the work of art
flowing from her tongue and her lips
the slower it is the more your mind trips and goes black
from the lack of oxygen
and the pure passion

and the faster she sings
you grow closer and closer to clutching your chest to calm your racing heart

then its over, and she gazes upon you
satisfied, seeing your beating essence through your chest
and the rest of your body
wanting
while your mind wonders at the beauty of their soul
taunting
singing only for you in a crowded room
and it is pure beauty
Ecstasy layered with an animal instinct
the air still hot with her words
and as she leaves your being blooms

i am glad i do not sail ships
because i would crash every vessel
into the cold stone that lies beneath a beautiful voice
a seductive lullaby puts this waking man to sleep
and awakens something far more awe-inspired
by the sharp eyes that look my way
releasing my unholy desires
because a maidens song is sung sinfully
but even heaven understands the sins that bring me
to my knees.

Midnight is the best time to make the worst decisions
the worst time to make the best decisions
the only time you realize that

hey
i just went around the earth
cool

but above all it's the time to appreciate the things that won't be there in the morning when you wake up
because we love stars right?

to those who may be concerned
please avoid every ink drop and walk forward

But to those confident few
who sit in the pews of their own churches
and pray to their image, struck upon a cross
fashioned from bits of life experience
and the mortar crafted from strands of their own
product infused hair

A word of warning

that crown of thorny poems
whose lines weave and turn sharply
spaced out without meaning
but seemingly meaningful
yet unfull in the fullest sense of the
un-word

you only ****** your hair
and nail yourself to your own vanity
making structural pleasantries
that mean absolutely nothing

if a poem is your cross
cross it lightly
do not blind your meaning looking straight into the sun
your religion is for yourself
you died for yourself
mimicking jesus does not mean you died for everyone.