Watching the dumbing down of America
Idiocracy at its finest.
Selling the world
One latte at a time.
Being guilty of the former.
I too, have fallen victim
to the carnival stupor.
"I'll buy that for a dollar"
That...I'll have to borrow.

I'm on a downward spiral
and you're the one taking me there.
I've lived a life of sin
for you to spit your self righteousness
in my face.
Someone who I let in to see me,
I have only myself to blame for that.
Every small, minuscule thing you know
is a weapon in your hand.
An occasional compliment falls on deaf ears.
I know, I've become your punching bag.
And because of my past
You use it all against me.
The only reason you keep me around
is fear of being alone and
to have something to throw your hate at.
Like an on and off switch
goes your sanity.
Taking your pills before bed
does nothing for your psyche.
I sit in silence.
Taking everything you dish out to me.
One after another.
Wash, rinse, repeat.
The sound of your voice
sends claw marks down my face.
I want to rupture my own ear drums.
No matter what you say
how you say it...
I still come back for more.

The new day brings a new headache.
Making myself forget the past has been a redundant chore.
Severing ties with those that have no part in my life is the highest priority.
Going back to helping myself,
instead of others.
Yeah, it’s the selfish thing to do.
So.
I was better that way.
I've bent over backwards for people
who take advantage or exploit the help.
You mistake my kindness for weakness.
You lose.

I need to do away with everything that hurts and scars me.
Like a catalyst, a substance that initiates or accelerates
a chemical reaction without itself being affected.
I am rebuilding the structure to the fortress around my mind.
Plain to see, but difficult to understand, I will become whole once more.
Tear pieces of me away, soon there would be nothing left.
A paper mind shreds easy. Stone does not.
I've done away with the useless things
and people which I left the door open to.
You can't break me.
Your a virus that I have the cure for.
Once again, I'm coming back to the place I need to be.
If you don't see it now..you will

to be continued..........

stuck in my head again,
nothing seems real.
life sheds its skin
on my lazy boy chair.
flashing pictures on the tv,
pacifies the pain.
as long as I keep the thoughts at bay,
the darkness sorta goes away.

remember the insults
you spit at me?
I do.
never stopped to think,
something else could be wrong.
you always say it has to be me
so you put on your shoes,
pick up your things,
kiss my head,
and close the door on another day.

you suffer for my torment.


©2006 Dead Men Publishing

Why can't I see the world with different eyes?
I go through life with doubt and negativity.
When I show something positive, I take a beating for it.
Either I'm full of ****, or I'm "too good to be true".
I just don't understand it.
It's easy for you to label me a problem without wanting to solve it.
Am I one of those poor ***** that had potential, but fell through the cracks?
What would they say in a eulogy for me?
Would there even be one?
"Shed a tear for a hapless sap who never gave anything back".
Yeah.
Seems like a thing to say about a lifetime lived in misery because no one cared enough to extend a hand.
Good for a laugh and a good time?
That's me.
Anything else?..nope.
When I'm happy, people actually go out of their way to take it away from me.
Don't I matter enough in this world to live my adult life in some kind of happiness?
Guess not.
I was told that crying is a way for the body to heal itself from grief..
Then why can't I?
It physically hurts me to cry.
Like someone taking a soup spoon and scooping my eyes out of my head.
And for the simple fact that I just can't do it.
"Cheer the **** up" they'd say.
"Stop being such an *******" I would have to hear.
If I could, I would.
I've tried.
And I keep trying.
You create the monster that I am not.
You judge me for the ****** that I can't be.
See the world through my eyes.
Take a walk in my shoes, and I promise you,
you would thank God that you are not me.
I have a purpose here.
For what, I do not know.
My true enemy is myself,
and you all know this.
So, you sit and stare, and point, and laugh.
You're **** right I'm the bad seed.
I should have been the abortion.

©2006 Dead Men Publishing

I touched your face.
Caressed it, oh so gently.
Shock waves ran from my
fingertips straight to my heart.
God! I loved the way
you closed your eyes,
opened them slowly with
admiration in them.
Then you'd smile and
my heart would skip and jump.
We'd rest our heads on each other,
forehead to forehead.
Just sitting there, silent.
As one.