red, blood stains on my hands and your body,
I’ve washed my hands a thousand times,
but i can still see the blood,
purple, all our bruised bodies, galaxies of wrath and fear,
etched into our skin and minds,
bottles shattering, bottles almost as broken as me,
our past now wrapped up in broken glass.
bland dinners, eaten in silence,
too scared to say sorry, too scared to break the silence,
and make it right again.
metal, the metallic smell of blood,
forever stained on my hands.
tears welling in your eyes, while i well with guilt
guilt, frustration, sadness
eating me away into
nothingness

I don't know where we went wrong. If you look at a person wrong,
You can wind up in between his sites. The danger a gun presents.
The best thing one can do is kiss themselves goodbye.
Of course, we always find people gunning down innocents.
In the news, in media. Why not increase gun sales? Why not
Spread fear and panic around about terrorists all day?
Sure we aren't the ones here bringing all the death,
Part of the cure, not the disease. Whatever they say!

you're the deadly kind
that when you make me feel so otherworldly alive,
it is a plus to the countless ropes left around my neck so tight

I can't help but wonder
What could have been
Because when our lips first touched
I found a light within

Living in a world so dark
My patience runs thin
That to meet again
I'm willing to commit the one and only, deadly sin

You enter
      Riding on a soundtrack of rising blood pressure and self defeat
       Every conversation kills itself at the sight of you;
     A *joke not quite worth telling, that no one would laugh at anyway
          Every eye stops to stare at you
        *An aging car crash of a human
Wrecked and painted in dried blood
     Seducing onlookers with a rinky-**** smile
     Missing the convenient yellow caution tape that tells you life stops here
          
       You complain to fill the spaces left by your depleting self worth
  That wasn't much there in the first place
In the mirror you see dirt
    And you can't wash it away, no matter how hard you try
Cause you're ****** in all the wrong ways
Up until you die

     Unintelligently designed
Your stupidity is almost genius
       You blame others for mishaps that you have gained
                            Your sickness a silent auction
                       Anyone could have caught it
       Infectious Anonymous
Attended every week
      And yet you're still so pathetic
you don't accept you're a disease worse than any flare up that could take hold
        You don't know how to recognize the facts that you've been told

       You complain to fill the spaces left by your depleting self worth
  That wasn't much there in the first place
In the mirror you see dirt
    And you can't wash it away, no matter how hard you try
*Cause you're ****** in all the wrong ways
Up until you die

1.
I am sitting at a coffee shop but I am too nervous to go in.
It is the same coffee shop you were in a week ago,
before you skipped town with your new girlfriend
who has a brand new nose as part of her graduation gift.

The very same coffee shop in which you told everyone
you wanted to take a crowbar to my knees
and knock out my teeth.

You wanted to **** me
and cut me up
and throw me in a landfill.

Oh honey, you never were very articulate or imaginative.

2.
It's strange, human interaction, you know?
While you were wishing ill on me,
I was with another man by the river who is over twice my age
and he was touching me in a way that he shouldn't have been.

That's life for me now,
there are no other ways to it anymore.

We all know I have a desire for what is taboo,
you made certain everyone knew about my little indiscretions,
and that's no secret.

3.
In truth,
I still think about the sun dappled curtains
that hung over our bed in early spring.
Still too cold out to enjoy ourselves,
but warm enough when we wore heavy jackets
and kissed in the community rose gardens.
Just cold enough that lattes and card games in coffee shops
such as the one where you swore you would **** me at
were still something we could enjoy.
But..alas,
I find myself to be the worst type of romantic.
I have a hard time letting go.

4.
And there's this woman outside the coffee shop
talking on her phone in eloquent Spanish
and chain smoking cigarettes in a way that makes them seem beautiful.
Her hair is obviously very deeply chocolate colored,
it is coming through on her blonde roots.

And there's this old man who limped up
and felt the need to stand behind me
and stare either at my computer screen,
or the seedy men day drinking on the job,
laying asphalt in the early summer heat.
It is hot, loud, sticky work to do,
but I guess this is their life and someone has to live it.

5.
There is a big green heart spray painted
onto the white brick wall downtown
and it has large initials sprawled across it in vibrant colors.
I do not remember a time when this heart was not there.
I want that.
I want a love so interesting even the city will not paint over it.
A love so daring I will have my initials plastered,
glaring over the city with a finalized permanence that says..

"I win."

Because that's what we all really want.. to win.

All the world is a stage of course.

6.
I feel that I push people away without trying to.
But, what is it about me that makes middle aged men look at me
and say "**** girl"?
What is it about me that takes their compliments
without a batted eye and makes me smile,
reveling in the fact for at least just a few moments..
I was deemed attractive enough to make a comment,
no matter how simple or degrading?

I find myself in a mans car who takes me to an abandoned house
and talks to me about hallucinating
and how women OBVIOUSLY do not enjoy *** as much as men,
and I sat in quiet, smug, disbelief
and watched him talk about what he does not know about.
All while fantasizing about him bending me over.

They forget all the world is a stage.

7.
I am a very good actress.

Jammin’ with Mammon.
Hyped to the max.
Finding those loopholes
Paying no tax.
Slammin’ for Mammon.
Foreclosing on life.
You died too soon?
We’ll tax your wife.

Jammin’ with Mammon
The world by the tail.
Lie cheat and swindle
Don’t worry about bail.
Swimmin' like salmon
Against the stream.
Dealing from the bottom;
Living the dream.

Slammin’ for Mammon;
Trample the rest.
Get first and last from
The community chest.
No famine for Mammon;
Let the poor starve.
**** the fatted calf and
Get ready to carve.

Jammin’ with Mammon
As good as it gets.
No room for conscience
Or squishy regrets.
Slammin’ for Mammon
Means money is king.
Don’t count the victims,
Just get the brass ring.

I think it's time to do an update
Of The Seven Deadly Sins
Most people do not know them all
Sit down and let's begin
I'm not really religious
But, I think they're a bit stale
So, I think I'll spruce them up a bit
In this my sinly tale
Gluttony, a sin of course
I think it should be changed
With an asterick, obesity
There, that's one sin rearranged
With dinner plates much larger now
And fast food all around
I don't think God prepared the world
For the obese people we've found
Hyper-obese children
Fed from chemically laden food
I think that gluttony can be renamed
To Obesity....don't you?
Greed...there's not much to say
Unless you're not in the one per cent
You know, the ones who have the cash
While we're still making rent
Unless things are all equal
This will never go away
Someone always wants all that you've got
There's not much more for me to say
Envy....not a really bad one
To me, it should not be on the list
Although some might seem envious
Of that bracelet on your wrist
I mean, really, how is envy
Something that should condemn your soul to hell
I mean I like my friends TV
But, I know he likes mine as well
Condemning both our mortal souls
For being envious of our tellies
That just does not hold water
Exactly like my wellies
Lust...I know, a good one
It gets confused a lot with love
To me the only difference is
With lust, you wear a glove
Lust and envy...make them one
A piggyback sin, if you will
It's like combining two commandments
Thinking evil thoughts before you ****
I lust for things I can not have
And for some, that would do me in
But, I can't see how lusting for a big tv
Can be a mortal sin
I think that  additions should be made
now, while I'm here writing
I think that reality tv is one
To be a sin it is inviting
Hoarding, that should make the list
I mean, most of them are lazy
I think how one defines celebrity
Has gotten rather hazy
Now, sloth...can be removed I think,
Or at the least, re-defined
Today, they're abusers of the system
It's the avoidance of work they say
So, here's what's in my mind
One who's known as sloth like
Avoids spiritual work as well
I say, cut them off of welfare
It's not worth sending them to hell
They'd be getting a free trip there
Again, avoiding doing stuff
Just cut their payments off and then
They'll work and quit their guff
Anger, keep it on the list
Because, it's a good one, I admit
Of all the ones upon the list
I think Anger's a good fit
Finally, we get to Pride
And I'm confused
I think the sin is blurry
And the word is overused
Pride of Man, it is a sin
but, aren't you proud of your young child?
when they go and score a winning goal
This as a sin, I think is wild
I am proud of my home country
And I hope that you are too
But, pride itself, it's not a sin
Aren't you proud of what you do?
Gay people have their pride parade
They are proud of who they are
But, pride itself....come on now...let's
Draw the line, not go so far
Combine the list of deadly sins
With commandments, make an app
Change punishments around a bit
Instead of limbo, give a slap
I think that things are sinful
And I know you won't agree
But, this is how I look at things
It's just me being me