From light hearted happiness

to straight into the ditch

they **** things up

so easily and they arent even here

that stain wont lift and you dont even bother washing it or coming clean.

so this snap of mine turned into your violent negation

another length of silence,

how long before you miss me this time?

how long before you realise that you are

deaf dumb and mute with out me.

I am your unglamourous purpose

I am your what little meaning you have left in your life

I gave birth to your reasons

and I will surely **** them if I go

question is,

how long do you have before you cant stop me?

how fickle you are about such important things

and how much unecessary passion will you

channel into a pit that is no longer interested in you

because there is nothing to take.

it never was a giving pit.

****** you dry now theres only heartache left to bleed

and it is all of your own making

the fantasy that they thought you were special

that they couldnt live with out you.

but I never could.

Yellow bricks breaking my back
I can't walk my way to the golden gate
Tic tac toe in the way of the consciousness I hold
Got to find a way around all of this unholy mess
Wander out past a camp site or two
Hearing some giggles these tents are full of scary clowns
Hacksaws for teeth and arms made of aluminum
Sneak to a forest filled with mixed messages to make neck hairs stand on end
There lies two paths
An emerald green like the eyes of a golden serpent
A red that blazes a fire by which the depths of hell have painted
They lead to two serenities
By the flip of a coin you may decide
Or return to the broken back by which a yellow brick has delivered you

When I was made
Someone must have ******* up the wiring.
There's a short in my brain,
Like water was spilled on it.
Now there's smoke pouring out my ears
And the gears stopped spinning.
I think a wire got disconnected
With the first blow I took to the head.
Now I'm smoking like a chimney,
But that's alright,
Its all electrical.

Gazing toward Utopia
she danced the night before the mildewed morning
with glassy eyes dazed
half-sleeping with folded arms
she gazed out toward tomorrow

She reads
                                          And she sleeps
                                                      Way too much
                                                            ­           It's her coping defence
                                                                ­               When nothing else will suffice
                                                         ­               She needs to get away
                                                       Without actually leaving
                                             Because she's too scared
                                   And too tired
                                            To leave her bed
                                                      So she cracks open a book
                                                            ­     To escape somewhere far away
                                                            ­             And she'll sob for the characters
                                                      ­                       Whose brokenness resembles hers
                                                            ­                                   And then she'll sleep
                                                           ­                                   And have sweet dreams
                                                          ­              Of realities that are not her own
                                                       Because pretending is so much easier
                                                 Than facing reality
                             So she'll sleep and dream
          And secretly wish she won't wake up
So she can finally escape

forget not words, body
thy soul is

                      and

hair            fantastically        ;   more unsquare


than an angle

measurable.         Not


                                 A
                       number
                           ,
                                        a

                     S
                         H
                               a
                                   pE  divisble


or an exact
adding of some subtracted
arithmetical wholeless
singular substitution.         (your
                                               mouth
                                                   is
                                              a
                                                           quiet

                                                groove
                                                               of
                                                      darkest
                                                   earth
                                                              )where


                                        innumerably


                                                              grows



                                                      the
                                                destroying colour

                                             of infinite flower

The ones thought lost never go away
find in you a place anchor and stay
on a rainy evening such as this
they come to your mind plant there a wish.

The girl you loved but never got to tie
you thought you lost when the years went by
comes back to you with the dust laden ring
her finger still unwarm on this rainy evening.

As the rain pours in the streetlight's glow
you regret if only you hadn't let her go
wish her to come back by a magic happening
redraft torn pages on this rainy evening.

Your side of the window can't rub off the cold
of the void in you left for her face never old
you madly ask could give anything to find
if on this rainy evening you come once in her mind.

My soul covet nay diamond and jasper,
Which can be stolen or lost altogether;
Neither seek you the fleeting treasures
Of the world with their misty pleasures.

My heart desire not cars nor mansions
Alone in this earth full of constant frictions;
Neither pant you after momentary majesty,
Rejoicing in an ebbing estate of excellency

For moths and worms shall consume apace
At death, this body, and its glamour face.
You cannot the devil confront with riches:
Job would have won cheaply his challenges.

But seek ye rather first the spiritual gifts--
Coveting earnestly heaven's endowments:
For life's purposes are by them established;
Without them dreams cannot be fulfilled.