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*** was the beginning
when a baby became a whale,
skin like diamonds and cotton candy.
They left their son early,
drank many colors and tasted the seven wonders,
breathing slowly so as not to wake the gods.

Their potatoes turned to meat and tasted saltier than usual.
Once at the bar, they drank nicotine
with their eyelashes.
God told them, "*******!"
and they touched each other on the knee
because abstinence from *** feels like cotton mouth.

They stole their child's heart
because they needed a second chance,
but they kept the body to feel less like aliens.
They lost reality in words,
unspoken or spoken.
Their son listened through his eyes,
regretful of his age and of the times.

They began to feel their actions more softly,
taking deeper breaths and
moving in slow motion.
The thoughts made their skin heavier,
their chins began to wrinkle,
their touches became cold,
and the only way to feel warm was to
I'd pull every ******* tooth out of my head
if it would solve anything at all
but I would just bleed
and hurt more than I do
it wouldn't stop the any of the withdrawls
I hereby declare war
on anything I've ever loved
Which isn't a lot
because I still haven't found
that much worth speaking of
so I'll just sit in my pile of teeth and blood
and try to remember
where these feeling come from

If I could follow the roots
all the way to the source of the problem
then what's the point of existing?
if it's all so simple so solve them
if I knew who made me feel like this
I would shake their hand and kiss their ring
because that's the person that taught me how to sing
how to write
how to live
what to die for
though I may never find
the origin of this sickness
that's allright
because that one person doesn't exist
yet I hate the one
that taught me to resist

whoever you are
one day you'll be the death of me
and wherever you are
I hope you're safe and breathing
because I'll be the one
to hear your last breath leaving
and on that day
you'll be buried
with all the burdons
that you've carried
every storm you've braved
will be right with you in that grave
because no one really remembers the dead anyway

bless your heart
and **** your actions
free your thoughts
don't fear reaction
live like you died yesterday
not that it matters anyway
because we'll all be dead soon too.
Thanks, stranger.
There is nothing better than the hunt,
As I smile so carnivorously,
I think of when I first began,
The day the search first ran.
It was a beautiful day,
As I was locked inside,
By a mother who doth protest too much,
An decided it was my turn to be beaten amuck.
I cried and I cried,
As old as I was…
There was no end or beginning
To the pain that I felt
And so the only way to ease it,
Was to share this pain, with everyone.
So began, my very first hunt.
And now, many years later,
I wonder ever still,
How the hunter has not become the unter,
Even as the scent of the prey lingers.
She is standing there alone.
Alone.
Just like me now.
Mother is gone, so it’s just me.
Me and the hunt.
She has a beauty,
You’d have to look at for a while,
To truly see.
But underneath she just feels lonely,
Just like me.
So I must hunt her,
And share my pain,
As she walks home alone,
Well I take her by the face,
And I kiss her forcefully,
And smother her fright inside of me,
Take her to the “forest”,
Where all will be decided.
She has calmed on the outside,
But the fear is consuming her eyes,
Slowly I take her clothes,
And oh what a glow,
Her skin seems to have been made for me,
For this very day,
Nothing better than the hunt,
And the trophy that lay,
Beneath me.
Being the Hunter I took and I gave,
With blood and with fear,
Forcefully she was laid.
And after all was said and done,
I think for a second it was clear,
That in that pristine moment,
When she first started to tear.
She felt it, Yes she did.
The pain of the hunter and the hunted.
I hope this offends you! :)
Superman can fly,
But I can love.

The Flash is fast,
But I can cry.

Batman always wins,
But I can lose.

The Hulk is strong,
But I am mortal.

God may be three,
But I am just one.
There is a place deep in this heart,
It bleeds and leaks like my favorite lark,
Hiding in the dark it fights to make its true mark,
But its existence is as futile as it is a fright,
Leading and guiding hell and hate,
The fire and brimstone that only man can create.
It hurts to beat, the never ending drum,
Put my hand to my chest and think,
Is this the last one?

Hoping it goes away,
This curse this illness,
And I have no excuse,
I am my own worst witness.
Some days are better than none,
Even if this life is no fun.
I can whine and moan, or make the best on my own.
Everyone has problems,
But why does it feel like mine are alone.

Like you, there is a war,
For that place deep in my heart,
Invisible to eyes, and x ray machines,
But the battles are over,
The victor, one.
Long ago, it was decided,
As I cried blood from my bones,
That the Morningstar would win,
And the sunset would be gone.
Upon a moonless night,
The man among the dreary horse,
Cried a lonely tear and said.

To die a lone be the best of dreams,
In this cold and blue night.
The void is fulfilling my loneliness.
Come and listen to it sing.

For songs will be sung, true and untrue,
And voices will silence into one.
When I sleep I fly, but in this earth I’m bound to die.

Rescue me then, O lord of the Dead,
Beelzebub take me, I’ll be you’re bride.
And the winter will come again.

Then in a time later when,
The other dream came imagined in,
The lion showed his mane and roared.

How fearful and hopeful the sound reverberating upon my skin.
Sealing doubt cast into the fiery Furness.
Say what you say about depression or doubt.

For there is no better cure
Than to smile all demure,
In the face of hell.
Been a while. Missed u guys
 Jan 2011 Ryan Bowdish
Pen Lux
haiku
 Jan 2011 Ryan Bowdish
Pen Lux
procrastination
is not being able to
love you right away
 Jan 2011 Ryan Bowdish
Emma
Who's going to help you up after you were dropped?
Who's going to clean your scrapes? Your scars?
Who's going to give you smiles now?

The world turns upside down and you
can't even cry when you're hands are so empty,
all you can do is yell and thrash and
put on a face that hides nothing
and inject misery into your bones and
be the perfect picture of everything you didn't want to be

What, did you think it would make someone save you?

Pick yourself the **** up!


Your tears run like acid down your face
and straight through my heart,
not because you are crying sadness but because
they aren't tears; they are unrealistic expectations
And by now you should know that time doesn't
turn around
and no one will ever "unchange"
and no one will save you from your misery because
you're determined to hate

yourself


Answer: You are only alone because
you can't accept being alone
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