I love this venue
that cobble stone alley
I've found needles there before
So perfectly filthy
and the place smells
like ****, *****, and sweat
And we tear it apart with every show
Me and Martin and Jake
drinking beers with one of the bands
before they went on stage
The manager came out
"What the hell are you doing?
I don't want a bunch of drunk kids in my club!
Get your ***** back inside."

Buzzing we made our way inside
God this music is loud
****** fingers shredding guitars
and rapid fire growls
like a hungry stomach
I like this?
I don't even understand it
The pit was going insane
and I was just drunk enough
were I was too
So we jumped in
punching and slamming our bodies
into complete strangers
A thirty year old man
punched me in the face
so I punched him back
and he high fived me

The crowd demanded blood
Jake was hoisted off the ground
crowd surfing a tsunami
they drunkenly neglected
that it was a bad idea
to drop into a hurricane
of stomping studded boots
But they did
and we dragged him out
blood overflowing from his mouth
we had to leave early
and missed the headliner
Jake received five stitches
and wore it like a medal
I didn't go to many shows after that

There's a man out there
and there is a woman out there
their entire lives
have been leading to this moment
connected since birth
two paper dolls holding hands
but there is a man out there
who is afraid
who believes
he can't give you
everything you deserve
who believes
he will hurt you
and maybe he's a child
who never understood
why his parents
just couldn't figure it out
and everybody always tells him
"You look just like your father"
but he won't be him
so he runs
and doesn't look back
leaving her is better than
destroying her
and she calls to him
"Run away little boy!
I just wanted to
help you understand"

I have the same name,
The same last name,
Same eyes, same blood type.
but I have never had the same self-confidence.
I was never sure of anything except my uncertainty.
All your life you have been doing what you wanted.
Now all my life, I continue doing what you want.
Your gaze, when you ask "so what do you want to be?"
And I answer “I don’t know”
Makes me think that all I want is to be frivolous and unserious.
In fact, I always knew.
Was just afraid of your disapproval and condemnation.

My poor mother.
All you do is brilliant.
except the family.
Your healing hands are able to cure everything but boredom,
Everything but apathy.
My gorgeous mom,
you would always believe in me more than I did.
In your eyes the picture of me was always more colorful and perfect.
I'm anxious for disappointing you.
That’s why I don’t tell anything about myself.
That’s why I keep my interests in a separate apartment.
You are so sick and tired of carrying your life, of carrying my life and dozens of other people.

When I was little I looked at you and never understood.
I didn’t want to be like you, but I never knew.
Now I am about to grown up.
Now I see much clearly.
I admire you.
But still I don’t want to be like you.
Because I have only your eyes, your name, your blood type
But any hint of your strength and certainty.
All I want is to be frivolous and unserious
And try to make you think that I have become all you wanted me to become.

Monosyllabically play smells.
With coffee and cigarettes
hands and sounds.
Mine with oranges. yours with *****.
You left them all entangled in my hair.
I breathe in and you again.
Again you look at me with a smile and sorrow.
We depend on the people and circumstances.
enjoy with alcohol abuse and insomnia.
When the last strangers' step out of the room  we breathe out in silence.
The words too much for too short time,
that's why we wait untill each one comes back to write.
Until each one of us is covered with the night.

Love.
Love is not a box of chocolate
that you can eat, digest and pour into the toilet.
it is not a flower that dries or rotten in moldy water in the vase.
it is not a piece of a cardboard with a painted heart,
Which lies in the bottom drawer,
As long as you do not make up your mind to throw it away.
Love is not a one day in which you're in panic sweep from the store shelves all
Which, according to the companies and corporations are best fit the description of deep feelings.
it is not the teddy bears, candles and **** lingerie.
Love is not red or pink.
It does not smell of marshmallows and roses.

My love is rather black as coffee and ashes.
It is probably transparent
As the monitor screen through which I read you and your thoughts.
It smells of books and smoke.
My love makes each day meaningful
but turns life into nothing.
Love is not the ability to see all the flaws and be willing to accept them,
But the capacity through a long time still do not pay attention on them.
My love is a jump into the abyss, holding hands,
not unclasping them, even when a clash with water breaks your legs.
Love is not a merging into one,
but the opportunity to be yourself.
Love is to let your beloved breathe calmly,
Even when you want to bind him and keep  him in your basement,
If only he was always there.
Love is the ability to cope with yourself when you're drunk and your hands are reaching out for the phone.

No, love is not a one day
or a lifetime.
This is at least the part of life,
But the most striking and sad.

Therefore, today is an ordinary day,
Such as tomorrow, the same as yesterday.
And I love you today, no more and no less,
the same as tomorrow, as well as yesterday.

They sell sandwiches and little nightmares with vanity inside.
i glide to a booth and schmooze the next wet group of compromised -
And Charlotte's web
of insular jokes,
snare me from outside my comfort zone...
and i own the green eggs and ham of our sepia tone in the septic lake
of our laughing groan.
We enjoy the view.
I drink to be We and Apart from you.
But the kegs dredge.
They plunder the blunderbuss of our best shot. With Silencer.
We crowd loudly in the Big Easy of our modern strife.
We scrape with dull Lives,
save those with sharp Eyes that see spigots
as unseen Blithe !
We gather in the Hemisphere of our Wanton Anonymity,
as divulged mirrors
in a House
of Cards....

All of my Best Jokes
are Friends
With hearts....
and Then
some...