I’m anxious and I can’t keep my summersalt garbage disposal from continuing it’s cycle. Stuck on repeat like the sound of a plum pit caught between the spinning blades, God they look maniacal. It’s more of a grinding kind of clatter, peanut butter hands pitter patter, some things never really matter.

I dyed to dream the colors that deemed

Sometimes when I'm in public settings I swear I can hear people screaming as loud as a sonic boom for me to ask about things they have hidden so deep beneath their skin their skeletons have run out of closets to hide in.
Except those people are empty. Sure they want you to know them, however they have no sincere intentions on ever getting to know you. So I walk past without so much as offering even a nod, but they scream louder and I'm forced to back track, and slowly I slip my skeleton key perfectly in.

I eat and purge my relationships like a pro bulimic. I have a unique gift of attracting the most broken of individuals, truly an extremist.

Crazy, violent, addicted, on the run, think they are moon babies banished to live on the sun, AND always saying, “Hey baby you’re my number one". AND even though I know better than to ride on the coattails of crazy, I convince myself I’m actually a someone to anyone. Like I give a ****. So then what’s the ******' hang up?

I watched as that needle drained you of your capacity. Capacity to feel. Capacity to deal. Capacity to reel in the really real. I watched and I knew that devil was one I would never *****.

I never really liked
my name much
until I found out
what it tastes like
when you sigh it
into my mouth

I put my guts to my glory so that everyone around me has a safety net thrifted into their detailed story

Where does that leave the seamstress at the end of the day, while sewing up tattered *****, wave and watch that memory fade to yesterday

The vice is the voice inside each borrowed choice, the dice thrown down, it's snake eyes now doing all the suffocating in my glass windowed town

I keep stitching up these frays and splits, and each time I know I'm choosing it. Something given to me so it wouldn't be right not to share, but like clockwork I turn and thread that needle with my hair

None of that matters it's neither here nor there. I'm stuck in torpor relishing your dark poison spears. Don't take your cries to the said man of the Sunday hour, the seamstress is here to patch your holes, frays, and splits, and then leave you for the vultures to devour the rest of your ****-

Always with the separate rooms, same separate landlocked pontoons. Another follow up,  billow of rank stank air, stale like the calming still of shell shocked monsoons, into the deep dark abyss I stare-

Heightens my senses, that still begotten presence of quarantined ill begotten dimensions, left stark and in the dark with nothing but the whistling of our declining pensions-

Repentance ask it of yourself, there's always an extra bottle on the tippy top shelf, reach high, you don't have to lie now, go ahead and lay that lye down-

Corrosion never felt so **** good...

Anything he calls me it must be true, Opinions are like ******* but I must be too

Nothing is everything and everything is wrapped up tight, right and everything is counterbalanced with unintentional natural born spite

This fog filled phantoms box I'm stowed away in
Pandora's dopplegangster the wicked we, the hidden brethren

So locked to my box no keys to set me free, I listen to all of beautifully damaging words he believes me to be

Opinions are like ******* but I must be one too, anything he calls me must be true

Keep slinging mud. Maybe you will slip in it and need help back up

**** it up and soak it in, coming to terms with fate and facing the reality that I won’t ever be asked to join in.

Never to be the object of desired affection that lies stagnant deep within.

A light beneath the endless sea, resonates a powerful memory of love lost and innocence set free.

That girl reminds me of somebody. She rolls off of my tongue like the sweetest candy but still she is just a mirrored me.

So far today I'm a giant, a tyrant, a clinical mess-
My label states I'm a manic, a miserable being topped with a dollop of depressed.
Those are my titles today, given to me by a man who just won't stay away.
If I am really all of those things , why do you suppose that man insists on hitch hiking on my manic wings?
Why wouldn't he get off at the next stop, as opposed to whispering in my ear those afflicting thoughts?
So far today I am a giant, a tyrant, and maybe even a clinical mess. But I will tell you what I am NOT, and that's a self righteous, name calling, demeaning pest.

How do you feel about this and that?

A cockroach stealing your children's dreams of a bright and peaceful future?

Watching a mongoloid getting backhanded by a ******* with a heart of gold?

The unknowable can't be evacuated by an atomic bomb.

Knowledge cannot be enthralled by microbiology.

Peace CAN & WILL shatter into fragments by the use of clinical drugs.

Fun finds the cure for cancer in a twisted upbringing that you and your siblings will never be blessed to experience.

Trust can trigger an avalanche of facts, AND satanism should generally avoid including sexuality.

Mary Magdalene turns boring things into ****** tension like peace inspires fundamentally skewered acts of protests.

Our world leaders briefly researching painful mutilations in an ancient garden in Greece, while suggestively grabbing handfuls of lost gifts in a church made from human bones.

How are you feeling about this mess of words I've sewn together?  

Televised revolutions are deeply advertising etched foreskins of death like Disney World sells us dates with Mickey Mouse and his muse Minnie as Donald poses as Adolf ******.   

Watch your friends fade and die as they disobediently blow away blue swamps at your feet, never even bothering you with a decent goodbye.  

There's a supply and demand on our radios briefly warning us of fearful flesh in the background of a dark ash filled sky, gently driving away from mysteries spied through a peephole.

I would have cried briefly, if worshiping premonitions in the shadows was good human behavior...But it's not..

Your sisters are daintily self-destructing emergency shelters dancing w/ both hands in your pockets while vomiting their lunches into fine porcelain. Aren't we lucky?

I am happily reusing substances
and creating electrifying populations with clay and words. A seamstress of sorts I suppose.  But I'm no artist.

Pentecostalism might be able to rid the world of a nightmare and your wildest dream might have been known to lead to a disorder that hasn't yet been but already has five matter of fact cures.

The Bible courses through the veins of vengeance like physics can be used to detect our long-term relationship with Santa Christ. Satan and I think this is exciting!

Complex religious designs can be combined with gracelessness in the name of American eye-candy.  We can be uncomfortable if it's entangled with destiny. Of this I am certain.

Never comfortable never content-
Always never rational and overly spent-

Living in constant still like motion-
Polluted and damaged I am the ocean-

Karma is more or less a ****** fable, it doesn't really exist-
Just another lie, fairy tale, ******* myth-

Bad things happen to most everyone-
The good, bad, and the ugly, there's absolutely nowhere to run-

Fight the good fight or give up your spot in the world-
No thank you, I'll pass on that offer, give it to some other **** ******* parasitic boy or girl-

All around the mulberry bush the tyrants hack and steal-
Thanks to the ******* that invented a barter, trade, and currency system, now the world starves killing for that next meal-

So here we are forced in to a hostile show, might as well sit back and watch our red light district flourish below -
With my head hung low, lack of glow, my wings fade and I become nothing more than a once was shadow

One foot in front of the NOT so other...why bother with me
I'm just a throwaway...his whispers won't allow me to be free...
This time around I lost my footing, my pudding, my busy little bee...
All around this mulberry bush the dragon chases his shadow.
And I know that you know what happens when the shadow is caught...
That night under the bright moonlight you stood war and fought...
That dragon whispered, reminded me of my captivity and I am you and you are me...Nothing but the still charred smell of the all American dream.

This box is getting awfully snug for somebody as ******' high as me, watch my face turn with glee, everyone follow me, the super-drug mean mug anti social **** the butterfly I'll always be the queen bee...
Same four walls with a lock around my neck, so tight with it's regret, hidden keys somewhere as far as parsec-
Shame pours out of the halls, stalked foreground against the main stream intellect, **** dialect no need to look back and reflect-
I moved with haste, lost my place, fell from grace, only to end up on my pretty.... face down, mud spent, I don't know where all my ******' money went. Look at me now look at the family so proud.
Shotgun wedding signing the rights away for my right away to go nowhere fast nowhere really really fast, going straight the **** down. With my halo valiantly thrown to the ground.  I need a vacation, I'm tired of ******' round with these clowns.

Sinking like a carelessly cosmic ****** on the 4th of J-U-L-Y, while a distressed young mountain lion lies on your feet.

Watch out for the cautious rubber shark inside the lines. It'd be something like Frank Zappa stuck on a deserted island with a dealer of his liking or disdain. 

I believe in outlandish crazy industrialists in the distance between here and nowhere. 

Lucifer has been infused with witchcraft and crack *******. Mindless *******. Thank your God. 

Excellent nutrition is being presented as gluttony. Which in turn has caused your little sister to make daily offerings to a porcelain god. 

Pleasure didn't invent rebellion but rebellion did however invent pleasure. Don't confuse the two. 

A believer is magnetically drawn to immorality, much like man is to faith. 

Inspiration simply radiates free energy and a smile should never be compared to a frown. 

Dreaming can be mistaken for productivity. Dream big people, dream big.

Even though we're not of the same womb, we share the same fleshy coat covering our bare and brittle tomb.  

I will never sigh a moment of disappointment again after you picked from my pocket, my deep throated eight-***** deep right corner socket, the envious green bank locket. 

Eight months and some silver change went by without so much as an apology, my effigy standing momentarily proud, my everlasting quieted eulogy seeking nothing more than a loud creaking to my bleating apathy.

Just relax those temptations and sweet sensations, fix the tooth yearning for it's familiar ache, that familiar feel of the snake, learning to break that stride of your pride. In the dark through the mist I arise to ****** back what is rightfully mine.

I have all this chaotic energy seething through my body with last nights creations and today's destroyers. It's so intense I don't even know where to direct it most of the time so I swallow that salty oyster.

It dances heavily on my squishy innards, with high heel slippers, they even had heels for beginners.

My guts churn and reluctantly become tangled. Holes and tears for this glitter girl perfectly mangled.

Ohhh this energy is fantastically painful. It's so mad my heart wants to burst and my love seeks to strangle. I love life, especially from this energetic, chaotic, messy kinda angle.

Write on the bathroom wall this:  


Diligence is probably slaying rebellion

Dreaming comes out of an atomic bomb

Your girlfriends in a gang that’s lead by prostitutes  

Cavemen getting punched in the face by men  

Werewolves developing a crush on skinheads  

Soldiers experimenting with martyrs  

Your nextdoor neighbor pretending not to know a *****  

A gypsy writing love letters to a villain  

A guy you once dated driving away from a distant memory  

Your mother at a funeral with an executioner

Mind control freak making eye-contact in an elevator with a flight of birds  

Gleefully bulldozing gigantic flaming embalmers underground  

Ferociously inspiring detail-oriented museums in the dark  

Painfully sorting through stainless steel students backwards  

Electronically sorting monophonic apparitions in the shadows  

Faithfully inhaling Armenian scorpions at tea time  

Briskly hovering above loud controlled substances eaten by America and spat out  

    Dream about this next time you sleep:  

Quizzically exquisite keyholes inside a sunken ship  

Wearily alcoholic skeletons invading our love  

Sharing sternly precious lithographs with Charles Manson  

Adoringly high-pitched frescos out on the streets  

Wildly crunchy affairs with reckless abandoned hope  

Her boyish handymen is like Mona Lisa without her brows

Sensually cuddling big pistols  

The AntiChrist finds the cure for cancer in the local pet shop

Mary Magdalene can sometimes lead to your soul’s desire  

*** can (and often does) lead to motherhood  

Absolutism has never touched cooperation  

The Tao Te Ching manifested properly may ease the destructiveness of Christ  

******* is hindered by believing in motherhood  

Nature encourages rebirth and recycled courage  

Ashtanga Yoga is more important than victory  

An inspired mind isn’t always The Bible  

Energy must always conquer evolution  

*** is a decent alternative to nightmares wouldn’t you agree?  

Electricity is a manifestation of mercy and Tesla  

Pleasure feeds on Gandhi’s sweat ridden bald head  

Candidly breaking dormitories brimming with joy  

Barely used unstable translators outside the lines  

Enjoying calm lavish casino hotels with the electric eager manicurists of tomorrow  

A janitor burying a troop of apes while nature contributes to death and new yesterday’s  

The unknowable comes out of knowledge  

A ***** mind finds the cure for ignorance in patience and the aloha spirit

Education contains traces of drugs and alcohol and also combats drugs and alcohol  

Satan always enjoys Richard Dawkins.