The drop of a needle sounds like the falling of an anvil; In the center of my existence. I was forewarned and forbidden; Oh, but it made the fruit from the Garden even sweeter. It had an edge; How ever sharp or dull the knife. It made me feel daring and alive; Now its smothering me. All of It. Now, Some sad sort of creature who can't get a hold of its being sits in the mirror before me; Its has an inhumane existence to trundle on with. Its dying of an addiction no rehab can cure, however hard they try. Falling; falling to the void. Deep into the withered hearts of those long before who suffered and lost. Aye; It has suffered and lost. No humanity left in these cheap wine like bones. With sunken lips and bruised hope. No love to live on and none to give away. Come join it in it's bleak and tragic existence; Wallowing in the dirt of its grave. Crowned and dug it lies with no prospects to forgive. How wise it thought itself to be. Stinking of sunshine when really it was rotting to the core. Vile imperfection and false intentions. Knives and daggers to those whose crossed it's path. Bleach bones and beach whales in its wake; How unforgiving the cold to the man who has been cast out; Rejected? How dead a bird whose wings have been clipped; Broken? With bleeding heart to match. Not even It could fly with broken wing and painted snarl in the fashion of a grin. With sharp teeth and empty longing. Oh how it longs for just a whisper on the wind from the old country.But so it will trudge; Broken with a head of false hope on it's hunched over shoulders.

Close your eye; Dissolve into the uncertainty of the dawn. It's coming regardless of how prepared or at peace you are with it. It is coming for you; It is coming for me. It is coming with bloodied fingers and cruel words. As the light blinds us; Dawns bright light. So cold; so cruel. Let it wash you into the sea with impure intentions. Let it's fingers wrap around your neck like a lover. Scream; Yell; Shout. Nothing is nothing; And we are all small nothings in the sea. Swept away with all the shipwrecks and whale bones. Decay is all we are; Big bags of decay. We waste and we squander all of our being. As non-existent time ticks on; So does our dying bones to the dawn. Let us close around our deep bruises and bleed our black sour blood to the wind. For if we don't live, what are we left to do but decompose into ash and waste away to the earth. It is an unsightly faith for which only we with our "superiority" hold dear. As we count and die by the dozens. Like flies; We fall off the cliff face like lemmings. One after another; Mother after brother. Down they fall. So they perish. Or so they fly; Fall; Die; Live. But the truth of it is inevitable; We are all dying in our skin.

Sweet summer grass swings in the heat
The breeze churns the stifling dead air
The fields stretch their ever lasting fingers to the sky
A deep blue sky that caps the world in a beautiful hazy dream
The sun whispers honey coated lullabies to the pasture
Adoring lullabies of the meadows and streams
Of the endless flowers of the southern sky
Daises, buttercups, and the ceaseless wild flowers that grow rabid in your eyes

It was the slightest gossamer touch
And it brought me to my knees
I awoke in a panic
Only to see you were gone
But this time not a dream
In your wake you left hazy day dreams
Full of laughter and honey suckle
Darling, there was starlight dancing
As candles flickered and lilac and mint swayed in the lazy breeze
There was fruit ripe for the harvest and you reaped it
Sweet nectars dripped down your palm as you caught it with your tongue
And offered it to me
Oh how ripe, how sweet
Now be stilled in my soul
The tender wildflowers that were yours
Now I would never forget
Though the sands of time may ravage my heart
Wild flowers will still flourish in my temperance
So it was not a dream
Though I was asleep
For so many years
Now enlightened with soft little wildflowers
that grow deep in my soul

As the nights languish with a fond kiss from lover's lip; Spry words spring from the dwindling flame as to revive its languor. In vain they stumble; Quick to the sword.
Love is, alas, a simple trinket to be bought and sold as they chose. Let it **** the next folk who haplessly come across it's starry eyed embodiment. Oh how black and binding it becomes; blinding the eyes to the truth. Which foolishly enough we over take.
For any chance at the happiness we seek is a happiness we take; Little in the hearts of man do you find contentment in solitude. Such a desire that burns in the heart; Little do we know of the derangement that befalls us.
Damnable in all it's wiles; once as sweet as honey then in a blink of the soul a black churning cyclone. It is the destruction we seek; But yet we do not destruct alone. This is what love brings us.
Countless night up; With wondering minds and curious hearts. It brings spring on a whim to tempt the summer to come back to us. It brings heart ache like a dusk; As the sun sets and we have fear that tomorrow never will come.
When all you get is heart ache; Is this what you crave. Endless nights in the dark after the wolves devour all your happiness.
Crave this lust of love; For all your want, you'll never have. Bestow upon yourself this damnable title and live as you shall. For we are men, and this is our curse; This damnable want of love to escape the lonely pit of ourselves. If only for the night.

Marred with words I never said; Coursing with the notion I'll never say them. Words like thunder; That echo in the heavens as they rattle your atmosphere and break the very bones that keep you structured. Words that are so soft and lustful; They are a mere gossamer touch in you ear; Lulling you to idleness. They stain. Ink bubbles out of my lips and dribbles onto my chin and down my neck. Staining me blue in my inadequacy.

As fortune fades with all our golden virtues; we are left to taste the bitter morality of our truths. Left alone with ourselves; we lie. Most of all we pretend to distract us from fate. How cruel our existence; as we aim high and fall short. Plumet and fall; Falling is our destiny. Man with it's greed and emptiness. We will fall as it is foretold. Had not newton spoke of this. And, oh, shall we plumet. Burning as we fall. Our "Humanity" shall be our deaths; least of all the end. Let man swallow the sun and the shadows swallow man. Our naivety makes us weak as we pretend to not see; we choose to be blind. Truth will shine through. It always does. It is the sick twisted way that fate has of reminding us that we live by threads. Cut your threads and jump. For fate has no hold over us now. Take the calloused blood stained hand of man and plunge it into the ice cold bitterness. Cleanse yourself of falsehoods. Remember who you are. We've all seem to forgotten in our maddened state. Shed your skins; Come out of the darkness. Hark the generation anew. Are we strong enough for such a task. The world of man is fickle and ever changing but the tide of fate is strong. Wade through the stream and get swept away. Drown in the tide; Forget what you've become. It shall be your doom.

I have come to the edge
Where I can see below me the world
And it is here I realize that the world hasn't changed but I have
My eyes are open now
And I can see that everyone
Is a self absorbed *******
With little empathy for others
And only living life to get high on something
Be it drugs or doing something good
Everyone does something to feel good inside
So they don't drown in their self absorbed sorrows

As still as snow
As cold as silence
As brilliant as lovers
As blind as the Reaper
As endless as depression
As periless as the ocean
As selfish as life
As dead as common sense
As deadly as passion
As warm as blood
As empty as a promise
As comforting as smoke
As nessicary as the end
As lovely as the dark
As ferocious as love
As sick as reality
As wicked as happiness
As false as god
As pointless as liberty
As tall as feeling
As cruel as fate
As lonely as the wind
As twisted as a book
As heartbreaking as the future
As true as a compass
As sweet as wild flowers
As somber as the stars
As sad as thunder
As soft as freshly cut grass
As quiet as blue
As vivid as a stupid wish
As compassionate as a rock
I feel the world inside me
And its weight on my shoulders

Wild strawberries in august heat
With a bitter taste and frail being
Only plucked and tasted by the curious
Native to gardens and lawns
Growing rampant in the grass
Domesticated to no one
Free

I was going to be sick
As this little balding man preached to us about Jesus
And politics
While Mark rotted in that box as Grammy watched and wailed
The smell of embalming fluid filled my lungs and began to suffocate me
Sickly sweet and pure chemical death
Nicotine drenched fingers
And leather were abundant in Osborne's
Where a funeral was a place to advertise
I was going to be sick
I wanted to crawl out of skin and scream
I wanted to hold her
While she grieved
I wanted nothing more then to hold her
As they shut the box on Grizz's waxy pale fingers
And she cried as a Mother should cry
Because "No mother should see her son in the obituaries
or in a box or have to burry them"