there's grace in all humanity, but
like a dog you've lost everyones faith,
by the pain of self pity came outward disgrace,
while you become time's eternal slave.

for now heads above water,
but there's lead in your shoes,
as youre always observing the lines.
drawn out step by step
in the sand where once slept
a great ego, kept fed by your pride.

now you're patiently waiting for them to be crossed,
like a snake youve coiled yourself to spring
but your bite will not spite anyone but yourself,
as the poison's already in your veins.

Character development
is truly an undertaking.
Perhaps an incomplete
person cannot develop
another, after all--even
one who is not real.

I think it’d be real easy to **** someone
take the gun,
take the knife;
pull the trigger,
push it in tight

I think that’s all there is too it
but I notice one thing that makes no sense
if it’s really that easy to **** somebody,
why isn’t everyone dead?