tunnel vision life
everything happening far away
backwards telescope
high school prom
pink & blue balloons

I walked through those doors
off the devil's wagon
like a poltergeist I was either
invisible
or a painted blood red target

Alone in the hallways
they laughed at me
a wasp-like
******
entombed in toilet paper
spit & magic marker
they didn't hate me,
they got me to hate me
everywhere I went their
gummy bioengineered shadow stalked
it was stuck on me all those years

like a bucket of pigs blood to the head
that I could never wash off

but I'm not that loser anymore
Don't worry, dea  r
Lo ve me.

healthy and sane
nothing to gain

playful and fun
but actually shunned

what to do
what to do
when you don't have a clue

                         ~
the light at the end of the tunnel
is far away past the struggle

and I don't know if I have enough left
to take the journey and make it to the end

I watch each of them eat
i watch each of them drink
i watch them all sink
i watch them sleep away
while walking,

zombie,
with the same placid easy
expression
ornamenting their face, handing chandelier face paint

a sconce on a wall i am
or in a chair
as they ensconce themselves into another job
another school another group

talk, about, important ****!
like a book
a clothes piece
a hair dye
clouds
universe
opening wide

revealing a void of absence
this makes me not closed
no closure

i want all their minds
to be present, i want

a
few people, around me.

they're stumbling off a plank of, mind, intellectual existence into

an ocean of jobs cars new ethics and things they wont get.
i'm trying to jump out of a swimming pool of truth,

out of,
existence.

I've said too much, I've lost my head, I've given up
I have nothing left.

The parchment paper rips down your throat.
As you tear your voice down every note,
The word “ihateyou”
**** every song.
A chill in the ear is a bell tones throng.

Believe that somethings wrong, cuz it ******* is! Believe that you're in love, cuz you're a ******* kid!

You cannot hold onto,
Stuffed blankets and pillows,
Live by a matchbook,
Head next to the gallows,
The heat from a sun has now died with the billows.
No air or ox-y-gen is capable resuscitation,
To stoke up this flame from dead coals in this bastion,
Each illusion is frozen by the heat ******* electron.
Division/deviation from a path that I abandon.
The futile, failure, falling to the knees view of a god that I do not cling to.

This songs about existence,
The pain in a distance,
Reminiscent,
Of a horizon,
Built on grandeur and heart omissions.
****** by a necropolis,
Of soul stealing black hole mouths.
Forgotten by its maker,
When the heartless chopped him to the ground,
Fraught with false oaths.

Suburbia disintegrates to ash and leaking gouache.

Bleed out.
Bleed out.
Bleed out.

When I was 15, I wouldn’t have believed you
if you told me all of this about constant lament
in a Red painted Animal House of scapegoats
that I’ve yet to see

it’s
        streets of beige
it’s
        fast food bad food no food spilled milk or beer
it’s
        the South no the East maybe West probably North
it’s
        in the air the water the meat there’s just too much heat to breathe or hold a job
it’s
        hourly wages and daily commutes of gypsy peddlers in a town I’ve never been to
it’s
        the cigarettes or nicotine my useless spleen filtering things I should never inhale or drink
it’s
        divorce rates leading to ***** flicks c-sections finding acquaintances on monitors after dark only able to generate laughter over years of tears
it’s
        women
it’s
        pain
it’s
        the migraines we get when we're waiting on the rain to paint the beige streets bronze
it’s
         rolling trees metal trucks frozen lakes lumber jacks and ice fishing
it's
         the anxiety of right wrong bad good all grey in the sunshine without you
it’s
         the words of times you said meaning more to me than it ever could to you
it’s
        the colossus of Wall St. overbearing my own suit and tie un-ironed or cared for but necessary     none the less
it’s
         CCTV the fight for power Government foreign travelers or terrorists Project Paper clip MK Ultra Plum Island persuasion propaganda Paul Wolfowitz
it’s
         who governs what you can afford when you sit tattered on a curb after earning another mans bread
it’s
        what has or has not been said 7 times or none that still lingers on the grass out front of home or house
it’s
        no matter how big you are you still answer a toy phone handed to you by a two year old
it’s
       the tears of Alexander when he realized there were no more worlds to conquer

In your wrinkles lies the wisdom that I continuously seek

too eager to wait for my own, into my future I attempt to peek

but it is through rose-tinted glasses, shattered by visions of war

that I understand my world filled paradoxically with blood, love, and gore.

Letting the words pour forth, I forget what I am trying to say

all I can remember is the hope that I hold for some better days,

not just for me and mine but this entire global community

that stumbles over politic and collapses in economic unity.

When will the giant be humbled upon desolate shores?

Surely it won't take the deaths of too many more...

Soldiers of fortune?

No, Soldiers of Deceit -- victims of their leaders own bigoted conceit.

Bloated and forsaken are the children of opportunity,

praying for sustainability, locked in obscurity.

I know no truth which has never been known before...

but God, bless all the ageless that wear their wrinkles as a crown of thorns.

I feel a struggle within
Two mind sets on on health the on a career
Only if the two would weave together
Instead of repellent for one another
Don't like how everythings like a contradiction
Not sure how to handle the situation
But know it must be done!
I want things to change and frustrated it hasn't happened.
More time spent on becoming someone I'm not
Instead of being the person I'm meant to be
Don't be this way don't do that
I'd like to be hearing that's what you should be doing ir your doing right on the path to destiny

I don't like disappointing ppl
Or being disappointed
I walked away but going back
Things are not the same or will never be normal
I've grown up in two cities not sure where the heart belongs
I've had many lovers but only one has my heart
I do things because they told me I don't belong and I deserve to be there I busted my *** to get there.
Leaving always feels like part of me is left behind
I don't like to leave on bad terms
I don't like burning bridges even though I leave to the point of no return.