how hard it is
to cut calloused skin.
how hard it is
to bleed the devil's blood.

A scream...
followed by a choke
a splutter, a gasp
then
a CRACK.

a field of white,
red river flowing
from the cavity of a chest
to gravel.
how long is
the road now?

light ever present
at tunnels end
how many times
must you die
before you get there?

spit broken teeth,
walls leave you weak
spell bound to feet
i bow,
"ah, goodmorrow
mystery"

Pretty,
your blood is pretty
and my oh my!
your veins look perfect tonight.
throbbing blue is making my head spin,
your pulse dizzys me.
let me taste,
just a little
and if i lose control...
well you must taste so sweet

I swim through your eyes,
get lost in your mind;
it's so beautiful here.

i could watch your life grow
forever and never get bored
with your way of processing
even the simplest things.

i dive deeper
and fall into the warmth
of your heart, but
i feel its so fragile,
corners stitched together;
makeshift medicine
against lost loves
and fatigue from the world
that treated you so badly,
i brush my fingertips
over the blackening spots
hoping to take
your sadness away.


i fell in love
with the butterflies
living in your belly,
their colours adding
to your beauty.

My eyes open slowly,
and to just trace your lips
with the tip of my finger
would be safety for me
and all these tears would
dry.

I awaken
to only realize
i am alone once again,
needing you here.

The monster of insanity stuck it's fist down my throat,
tore out my sanity, 
and it's watching me bleed out. 
Tell me, why is the monster dancing?

Fangs so jagged, 
tearing my flesh, 
leaving me skinless. 
Is this all because I'm weak,? 
Nothing more than a putrid pile of dying flesh. 
Can this all be undone? 
Insanity, sharpen these teeth, 
take them as a trophy, 
I am nothing more than a horror show 
with only trophy teeth to show for it. 

A mass murdering beast, 
Keeping you just alive, torture. 
Chain saw massacre, 
Where you haven't been cut entirely through, 
Metallic taste on plump ****** lips, 
All the stories that can only be whispered now, 
Never heard. 
I'll tear out bullets from purple skin, 
Darling, hold the gun. 
A slowing heart beat, 
Locked forever in a glass coffin,
Another trophy.

To the vast emptiness you believe in,
memorized cursed faces,
breathe in dying lies.
Which do you prefer?
Protest vulgarities
and we'll shoot you
between blood shot eyes.
We are not real.
Secret?
Yours bides time in your eyes
the stench of ****
rolls off your priest collar.
You're high
taking the bible too literally.
The confession booth
is so much less than truth.
Sunday seems like a good day
to betray your faith
and **** every *****
that's been lured into your cellophane faith.

You are nothing less than angels,
with stars falling from sky blue eyes,
darling, keep smiling
while they plot ways to **** you at the round table.
What fools these knights are.
my boy, Liquid wisdom drips from your beard,
you have seen so much more than the world
and it drips, drips,
the world weakens and drips
as your spells against ****** attempts fail,
the world drips and you swing,
you are nothing less than angels.

Lipstick isn't the only thing that stains anymore.

Stubborn eyeliner has marked last nights man.

Tomorrow brings another day, but the same routine

and a different greedy look as she walks to the corner.

theres not enough water to wash away her diseases, dear.

Just a pest, a rat scattering the streets

with nothing more than a cigarette and greed in her hand.

Stumble, filth. stumble, stumble stumble *****.

Shes the highest range of STI distribution.

I say, she deserves a lukewarm meal.

Why would you tell me to breathe
if you're the only one who wants me to die?
wind your spells around my neck
and tighten your grip.
this is a wasteland.
You want me to breathe but
you're the one killing me.
Hypocritical ******* flows
from your mouth so beautifully.
this is a wasteland, a chemical reunion.
through death you say,
i'll live again.
put your venom in my mouth
you're the only one that wants me around
you're the only one that wants me to die.
Don't tell me to breahe,
its only toxic waste in these lungs.
your fangs in my tongue, deteriorate.
I'll dissolve and you'll explode
in pretty coloured smoke. enjoy.
You'll vanish before i can blink an eye.
You're the only one that wants me to die.

Insomnia attacks you front on,
rips back your eyelids
and devours the human sleep mechanism.

Depression disembowels you
and you feel sick to your stomach
every ******* second.

Scars forming on one limb
turn into bruies on another
and then into deep red scabs on the next.

Headaches throb and throb
and bash and throb
inside your head for weeks.

Extensive cold showers
do not suffice as an escape
And fail at making you clean enough.

There is only so much a pill can do.

She sits in her little ball
of self diagnosed depression,
self inflicted sadness
and weeps dry tears
she sobs hoping someone
will stop
hoping prince charming will pick her up
even though she knows
he does not exist.

I feel sorry for this girl,
she has no one
as I watch her life through glass walls,
(glass walls that I can't break down)
she has become my favourite channel.
each season is almost the same as the last;
like a horrible soap opera
except this is real.
people see her,
pause for a moment,
weigh up the pros and cons
then continue on
like she was never there.

Very suddenly her life
becomes dark
and she's controlling the storm clouds
the roll and crash and boom
the spinning of a
self destructive tornado.
it rains blood on the world
shedding the now only present colour.
its all become black and white.
Its all become black and white
and she's dissolving in the smoke.
with a broken smile on her face,
she floats away on *** and coke.

All you'll




                         Ever be





Is a waste




                                 Of ******* space.

i dreamt of leaving last night
i dreamt of running as far away
as my chubby legs would take me,
I followed winter across the planet
wiping snow flakes off my cheek
and dancing just before dawn
in the **** in the top end of France.
I dreamt of chasing rabbit dreams
down their holes and stumbling.
I dreamt of drowning in smoke
and playing guitar with a cigarette
in my mouth on a street in New York.
I dreamt of taking flowers from a garden
just outside of London,
mischief, i dreamt of that too.
Singing til my lungs were burnt,
and only sleeping when I'd pass out.
I dreamt of all these things,
and everytime I close my damp eyes
you are always there
And I dreamt we chased winter
around the world together.

Hey, baby, you're lookin' a little ill
how's the taste of poison on your lips?
You drank it off mine.

Hey, baby, you're lookin' a little pale
what's it like lookin' up at the world
from the ground?
I promised myself I'd knock you down.
Premeditated destruction
of the only one I've never loved.

Here, baby, take this pill
and leave it on your beautiful tongue
don't swallow, don't bite. Not yet.
Pretend it's that pathetic disc
you get from church every sunday.
The Lord has come personally
this time just to see you suffer.

Baby, this could be a Hollywood blockbuster.

I'd warn you with lights and sirens
but I don't think you should know
about the blade in the tablet I gave you.

Poison mixes with your blood too well.

cats, cradles and broken jars,
I don't know where this is going,
but it's gonna take me far.
London, Paris, Rome--
Home.
Any where where people
don't know my name.
I'm going to go far,
far far away.

Fight the world





                                 For it





For as long




                                                        As possible.

One more sleepless night,
Another timeless darkness,
closing in on me.

Flames consume my eyes,
The burning will never stop,
Please, oh, please, take me.

Let the devils in,
Give them shelter and some tea;
Hospitality.

Now, now, let me sleep,
please, I've been good to you all,
Unchain me, devils!

Broken and
dismembered,
You're in pieces
bleeding to death
on the lounge room floor.

This place is a mess
and you've become
the worst of the best.

Welcome to a
hell drenched home
where you'll bleed
'til you're empty
and rot to death.

With pretty scars
and stolen fame.

These crows
they feast on
your eyes but
you can still
see torture.

This is so fair.

Mixmatched and in flames.
Keep the pain.
Keep the pain.

Hide the glitter
Swallow the shame.
swim through eyes
but close your mouth
don't eat the vile
grey brain.

Smell the dead roses,
dear.
They smell almost
as sweet as you
and the death touch
you harbour.

Spread your torn
angel wings, set them alight
and fly, baby, fly.

Spin through falling clouds
as we cleanse the world
of you.

We'll welcome you back one day,
until then,
who the **** are you?

Choke on every
dream you ever
thought was real.

Claw at every
lie you ever
thought was true.

Wash your hands
clean of yourself.

Become pure again
in all your impurities.

Smile. Smile. Smile.

Sharpen your ******* teeth
and bite.

Who the **** are you again?

Spread the disease
of putrid impurities.

Spread the disease of you.

Colourful toucans, magic disposables
with pretty specks of dust, fallen pixies
and dreams of an escape.
take me back to that place.
I wanna go home, I wanna go home.

I miss that pretty, twisted place-
I miss that other half of me;
it seems to have detached,
leaving open wounds for me
to find zero comfort in.

Where reality exploded before our eyes
and travelling in teleportation devices
seemed so logical and the only method
of reasonable transport.

The world will not be crushed
by my fragile shaking hands
but I dream of the day it does.

Everything is just a dream
that is vanishing as I wake up now.
I don't wanna wake up, I don't wanna wake up.

I wanna stay in this place,
with fragile hands and the creatures
that are so tragically beautiful
with our minds as the creators.

I wanna stay here with these illusions
that have become our world.

I wanna stay here with you.

...I've been dying to know









                                               What's it like to love?

The counsellors office has always been uneasy
and the chairs always too cold
always a small breeze with the windows
not even cracked open.

This was the newest patients second visit,
everything was casual,
routine questions,
just another average case
but then there was a sudden silence,
the patient became curious and fidgety,
the counsellor sat waiting, watching.

"uh, doc. I know this isn't your dance
or anything,
but do you feel that?"

It had gotten the slightest bit colder
but that was usual
in these 2 decade old buildings.
"feel what, kiddo?"

"That!"

the patient standing now,
was pointing to the door,
as the violent ghosts swooped in
attacking them both,
too much blood and two mangled bodies
on the floor,
the receptionist didn't even hear a scream.

With the next appointment,
the receptionist walked in
getting a mouthful
of that putrid metal-blood taste.

I guess even buildings have a tormenting past.

The statement

                              

                                       To keep me



                                                                      Forever,

A promise?

Or threat?

Does that mean my wisdom teeth
have finally spoken to you?
They know things I don't.

Will you finally give me freedom
or do I have to search for that too?
A longer leash would be good.

Finally, growing up
in your eyes, Ma.
I hope I'm making you proud.

When I'm done losing teeth,
when I'm done growing old,
I want to be able to say
I've changed the world.

One last question, though,
Ma, will the tooth fairy come?

Well, at least i can't remember
the last time I woke in the middle of the night
screaming your name clutching the emptiness in my bed,
it was terrifying, i don't remember the dream
but I know I woke up needing the only thing
that was never, ever there.

And for weeks,
I cried myself to sleep
still clutching empty nothings
that made their way into my bed.

They still watch me sleep,
but are now at ease
that you and i don't talk anymore.
Self induced loneliness,
I suppose, because
you always said they weren't real.

Tying ribbons around my fingers
to remember to forget you
one day,
and
like theres a tornado in my head
I'll destroy myself
'til then.

Come on then!

Draw your swords

Let us fight 'til the death

You can have the last suit of armor

You can have the most sharp sword

You can have the crowd cheering you on

But just let me die first.

I've been watching you for days now,
not speaking, hardly interacting
and i can see in your eyes deep thought
like you're always searching now
but what for?

Always standing in the shadows,
like you're waiting for our bond
to just snap and retract you back
to where you were before me.

It's been 1 week and 3 days,
since we fell silent,
and I'll approach you today,
to let you know its time for separate ways.

"We can't continue in silence" I say
choking for the rest of my sentence,

You look at me so puzzled
and so lost in empty eyes,
"Well then... talk?"

"I think," I breathe, "you're not happy here."

"But..."

I look down, your eyes are burning me,
"I've been watching you for days,
You've been searching for ways
to leave me, and... I think I'm okay
with that."

In that moment,
I thought I heard you tremble,
I thought I heard you shudder,
but it was really just you walking away,
It was really just my world collapsing.

So empty, so, so empty.

You say that you're unthought of in this dark and cobwebbed mind of mine.

You say you're vanishing and dissolving from this grey, boring life of mine.

You say I've had enough and I've given up,

you say I'm losing myself and the only person who I've ever loved.

But what you don't know,

Is that I'm too afraid to tell you that;

you're in every single one of my demented dreams; saving me.

You don't know you're in every single one of my thoughts in the waking day.

I could never have enough of your precious company; it is just stolen time, with you.

I'm too scared to hurt you dear, that's why you don't know these things,

I'm too scared so instead I push you away.

And I promise, I'll never lose myself, for your sake; so you'll never lose me.

But my silence right now, will set me free.

Today,

My english teacher,
with blonde curly hair
and the body figure of a stick,

told me,

that I am no good at poetry.

a heated argument then arose,

poetry techniques were
flown everywhere from two
different airports; our mouths,
and because I have the temper
of a four year old,

I hit her.

She was knocked out
and blood dribbled from her nose.

Later,
after she came to,
she apologized,

but I'm still deciding
whether or not
I should let her out
of the classroom
supplies cupboard.

Just another ruled notebook,
with pretty white blank pages,
soon to be destroyed by
pathetic sentences
and poems and rhymes
that make no sense.

Just another hard covered notebook
waiting to be kissed by ink
torn by paint brushes
drowned in spilt tea.

This is a brand new notebook
So neat and clean
anticipating
the countless number of pages
covered in poorly drawn
pirate stick figures.

we are the plague
the flesh eating,
soul disrupting plague.
we feast on your body parts
leaving only bones.
we're taking over the world
and the fleshy human race
will become a race no more;
nothing but mere walking skeletons
with blackening teeth marks.
they will wander
with us taking over the world.

the eyes are our favourite part
we'll send you blind
feeding on your visions
and memories leaving you shells.
you will just become
white noise in the army
which the plague is here to create.

I'll hold your hand
to see you through the fire,

I'll guide your feet
to walk beyond situations; dire,

I'll pave your paths
with no bumps in the road

I'll stay with you forever
'cause all I really wanna do
Is see the ghouls devour you.

I'm waiting





                For the world




                                            To collapse around me





                                                                                              Again.

I'm just the **** up
that you didn't expect
and oh, hell, i'd love to escape.
Conforming will eat my head off
injections of rebellion.
Smell the dead roses
and numb yourself
with immeasurable time.
Dance dance till your knees give in,
drink drink drink
til you're overflowing
with the devils brew...
scream obscenities at the lights
hold your breath
...
spin spin spin
...
spin spin spin
...
spin spin spin
...
spin spin spin
...
spin spin spin
...
collapse
...
now breathe.

George Foreman



                               Never




Let me down



                                        With his fat-draining grill.

I'd give you everything,
but I can't tear this heart from my chest
and put it in a shoebox
tied with pretty ribbons and bows,
the cardboard would dampen
with tears and warm blood,
it would collapse and tear.

I would give you my heart,
But I can't give you second hand goods.

I was born too late, take me to the 80's.

Repulsion always looked so good on you
when you'd find out about things I'd done,
Yeah, yeah I'm a teenage *****
But that ***** had *** on your floor!
And at school when you watch me,
It's like you're waiting to be shocked.
Shake your head at me, go on, do it.
You need to know, you're no ******* angel.
It's okay, It's okay. you can go smoke ****
and then judge me,
Cause hypocrites your second language, baby.

Every time something new and exciting happens,
I'd write a letter to mumma,
ever since I was six.
New Ma and Pa gave me a pen and paper
one day, and an envelope with a unfamiliar adress,
they said, "Write 'til your hearts content, sweetheart."
My first letter had terrible spelling,
with backwards letters,
But it had meaning,
it read, "Where are you mumma?"

I wrote a letter for each week,
and New Ma would let me put it in the box,
down by the train station,
I'd run home as fast as I could
and Pa told me that if I sit by the letterbox
too much, a patch of grass next to it would die,
so I sat at the door step waiting instead.

As I grew up,
The amount of letters I'd write would
slowly decline, I'd write more in depth
than one sentence, but only once a month.
At the age of 17, I'd write only 2 letters a year,
Christmas and what they told me was her birthday.

I'm 29 now, I still write her a letter
whenever I have time,
and somedays, when I feel lost,
or empty inside,
I'll still sit by the dusty letterbox
and wait.

*Dear Mumma,
I'm 29 today, are you proud?

How are you?
Are you fine?
Are you fascinated by stars?
I watch them tonight,
As I write to you.

Mumma, I have some sad news,
New Pa had been terribly ill for weeks,
Months maybe, but it all seemed too quick.
He passed away last week, Mum.
Pa was a beautiful man,
I wish you met him, Mum,
You would have liked him,
Every one did.

At the end of Pa's funeral,
New Ma handed me a shoe box
covered in tear drops
and her shaky hands were so pale.
But, Mum, do you know what was inside?
The box held every single one of my letters
That I had sent you,
All were stamped with "RETURN TO SENDER".

On sunny days,
I still wait for you at parks, Mum.

From your forgotten daughter,
Florence.
I love you.

Your eyelashes hold the tears
of a thousand men and womens sorrows,
you speak to the dead
and yet, and yet
you scream happiness.
you bite your tongue in the arch
of every conversation
afraid of twisting words through your teeth,
It's sunny outside baby,
wipe the dust off the window
with your green sweater,
green was never your colour
leave your house
breathe in freedom
and exhale the voices of the dead,
let them go home, baby,
stop holding on
Kiss me without the taste of dust
on your lips,
break the frozen grass with your bare feet,
Exhale the dead, baby.

Prince Charming will come for you one day,
my sweetheart, but you musn't go out looking,
because, my child, because there are wolves,
big, big, bad wolves -
The horrible mean men, choose wisely-
One day, you'll see.

I pray the best for you, my pretty one,
Your golden hair will get you far-
And I promise we'll meet again under the sun
Your smile will fill my heart,
until the day I die, my dear,
without it I will not be complete.

Now, don't cry with these words.
For you should know I love you,
I shouldn't leave but I cannot bare it
I'm torn by these decisions
But I cannot give to you
what you need-
you'll understand this
when you're older too.

Enjoy the life I have given you, pretty one,
when this war is over, I'll find you,
and we'll meet again under the sun.*

*Apparently, I was barely three weeks old
when she left, and daddy was a lost cause they said-
told me he went to war, came back a nut case.
No one knows why Mumma wrote about
leaving me during the war, it was already over.
Maybe cause daddy was mental,
and she was poor,
myabe she couldn't cope.
I don't know.

I'm twelve now,
my adopted parents aren't too great,
sometimes, I think a brick wall is more capable
But I love 'em,
I love 'em more than my real folks, hey.

I like to think that on the hottest summer day's
Mumma will meet me, just like she promised
but without a photograph or nuthin'
I doubt she'd ever find me.
My hair ain't even golden anymore,
My new Ma and Pa
says it starting going dark at age three.

I don't remember much of my childhood,
my real childhood atleast,
the one I was supposed to have with Mumma.
All I have is a fading hand written note.

I've always been unsure of you,
never knowing whether  
you're a psycopath or if you just
care too much about people
who don't deserve to be loved,
people like me, who
just take and take and take,
who abuse every one for their stupidity
and poeple like me who never love.
You've always been to clingy
asking how I am
too many times in the short span
of one day, if I could really be bothered
to count, I'd say you'd say hello
at least 10 times before midday.
And it's scary.
Don't get me wrong,
admiration is cute,
but it transforms into stalking
very, very quickly.

Let them know you're here-
Create white noise with your voice,
Their ears bleed silence.

But what is a soldier without his gun?
A brave little boy, playing makebelieve
in his room with a plastic G.I Joe doll,
his camouflage inaccurate and too yellow.
Plastic sand bag barriers scattering the floor
this boy has never learnt a thing of the war.
leaving it all up to imagination
he takes the tiny plastic radio
and calls in, "Mission complete -
Commander, we're comming home.
Over and out".
Creating a fake static noise with his mouth
which takes us to a new scene.
Accurate camouflage colours this time,
the australian flag on his shoulder,
but that little boy from his room
is now wearing them as a man.
A soldier he has become
with destruction all around him,
he was flown to Vietnam.
A high-tech radio for real this time,
"Man down! Man down!"
One of his unit fell heavy in the mud.
303. slung over our little-boy-from-his-room's shoulder
he drags the wounded behind trees and shrubs
an act of valour.
Though, our little boy did not know,
that he'd be wounded too
and comming home tomorrow.

Yes,

       They

T-to-took

                 Her-

S-s-s-*******

                       All

Be-b-b-beauty-ty

                            From

H-h...h­er

                                     *Wrists

Behold!
The Ugly world!

Come on now, kids.
Open your eyes,
Open your windows.

Everything here can
and will **** you.

Every breathing, talking
human being will judge you.

You'll fall victim
to sins that religions fail
to take from you.

You'll be a ******
and grow up to be a *****.

Darknesses will come and go
You'll fall down rabbit holes
but you'll never disappear.

Every thing is possible
in this ugly place,
or so they say,
everything is possible
except escape.

Breathe in now, kids,
absorb the vile smokes,
toxins and dust,
these will **** you too.

Here, is the land
of "freedom";
it's a lie.

Take a gun,
swallow the smoke,
and brace yourself to fight,
fight against governments,
laws, lies, religions and yourself.

Go on now, children.
Go fight.
Have fun. :)

Of Her parents home
with blood gushing from her wrists
clothes that look like they've been through the shredder
bleeding mascara and the deepest holes for eyes
for once they'll crowd her, worried,
and ask,
"Who or, o-or what di-d-did this to you...?"
Her Mother will stutter through confusion
And the girl will reply with,
"It was me."
Empty and cold, She'll stand bleeding
Her mother will whimper and her father
is never anywhere to be seen.

I stand alone at parties,
With a drink in my hand,
Watching my wasted useless peers
Then you walked up to me,
Already off your ****
And it's only 20 past 6.

"Oh, please. **** me."

Ha Ha!,
Silly boy,
I wouldn't even touch you
In your most crazy, *** driven dreams,
But I'll smile politely
And say,
**"Sorry, I've already forgotten your name."

as the sun falls on another dusty, mould soaked house
you sink back down into your torn arm chair
and smile to the bottom of your glass,
bottoms up
With the faint smell of death rolling under the front door
you light up another smoke
only 1 and half packs left for the day til you're done.
with that smile still there you smooth back greasy hair
nothing but a tree scratching at the crooked window pane
refelect on your day, sweetheart, I saw it all, i know your thoughts
but you do honestly think handing out false compliments
will make you that little bit better?
will "your hair is stunning" to the balding old woman
erase every single one of your scars?
of course, were he still alive, he'd say pathetic scars.
battle wounds you call them,
battle wounds from a war he said you started
upper left arm, theres a cigar burn scar
you say, "pa, did this, filthy ****"
he meant the world to you, he abused you
but i know your thoughts, you loved him
right arm broken at age 6, it never healed real well
right hand shattered at 3, you were lucky that time
he'd chase you around the house, i know.
you paid your dues, the world was ready to give you it all
but you knew nothing more
than Bottoms up
and passing out on dusty floors.

These beasts and demons you speak of
these things you warn your listeners of
i am them,
the addictions, disorders, fears,
I am them.
They have become me, I accept that,
I am everything you all hate,
the lies, deception,
I am them
I am everything you despise in this spinning world
and I don't know how to escape their spells.