Within these walls lie
All my hopes and fantasies
Barren walls, to protect and keep
It's a maze, it's a trickery
Temptation up on every pillar
If I could only reach it, to take it
To swell until I fall
And watch witches fly and chase
Colorful glowing orbs of sand
When I see the forest out the window
A prairie without life
Half of me sits on the ledge
The other half keeps me up

I'm searching for it
It's the sustenance to keep me swinging
I'll consume it all
But it's behind the mirror
Always impenetrable
Cook up a spell of wizardry
Change the way I look and think
But here I am still hungry
I've got power for nothing
I've determined
It'll continue in this other reality
The glow will shine all all day

Years later the world still stands
I have not aged a day
But my bread will not rise
Outside brews the clouds of war
Vaulted heights lost to darkness
Curtains hide my face
I'll climb up inside the ceiling
If I fit into the tower
I'll hibernate until I'm ready
The lights are on as they were
They still live but without magic

I'd be the bigger person
But I've lost my desire
I'll run down alleys eating gold
While theives search for me
I'm still looking for that heavy dream
The addiction to wait
The light headed ecstasy
Of my drug of choice
A banquet prepared but hidden away
In a church of blind peace

Guden Oct 14

A taste of love
Just a taste
Can make you a junkie

Katarina Oct 12

So my sweet darling, say it.
Call me poison, just once more
And inject your sickly bitter honey drips
Into the butter softness that will stop your breath

For a while

And here I am, chasing my dragon again
A martyr, at the hands of a God
Or is it the other way around?
For you couldn’t even look at my face

That last time

Yet I couldn’t say goodbye
And I think you knew
I’d be back, waiting for a clenched fist at my throat
Craving to feel, nothing and everything

Once again.

Waiting for the word, the question.


“Religion is the opium of the people”
- Karl Marx

your lips taste like sin
alcohol breath and
cigarette smoke mixed
with a hint of mint
baby, i’m addicted to you

his lips taste delicious

(Poppy tears)
"Why you crying baby?
You've been sober ten years!"

Dopamine, slow adrene'
My dog cried tonight
Sad soul was on the rug last night,
Had a shape like my best friend
And a face just like her grin.

There are droves of drugs in all the land
Fitting for every palm- and calm every hand.
For pride, for want, for lust, for hate.
The poppy tears make us salivate.

Sober or not, monster locked in the tower
Monster locked in cellar
Monster in the kitchen with grandpas cancer.

We cant help but look at each other and say:-
"The human race is pathetic."

Cold compress holds us back,
Every ant has a poison that gives her heart a heart attack.
With every wasp, and hornet kind
Comes a fever,
That just melts the mind.

FINV "The Allegation of Mui Po." v4 (9/20/17-10/2/17) by Evi D. Halo
Rebel Heart Oct 7

"Don't do drugs"
Everyone always says
They're addictive
Cruel in every way.
I pledged to be drug-free
Since my pig-tail days.
But then you crashed into my life
And blew everything away.

My worst addiction
Was the sweetness of your lips
My favorite destruction
Written in your fingertips
My worst obsession
The deep color of your eyes
My favorite drug
In your sweet little lies

Poem from some years ago I feel too deeply right now. Happy writing ~ BM

(Front Page 10/7/17)
Kyle Dee Oct 1

This is the legend of the Rat Stache Pack
as told by faithful scribe and chauffeur
to the marauders of mayhem and justice,
the poetic kind if you must
The Bohemian,
The Boxer,
The RocknRolla,
The Fiend,
and The Poet, the born again reckless
formerly known as "Karl Marks"
They called us the Rat Stache Pack
because we were filthy, sophisticated,
gangsters, and gentlemen
We were the sharpest looking deviants you'd ever see
in your wettest dreams
We were the kings of the obscene
we ruled equally
with iron fists and tulip hearts
gentle and delicate
Our minds, razors like our eyes
with we cut through every impersonation
and we were envied for it.

We were midnight riders with a medieval sense of humor
we were crusaders for chaos
freedom fighters with a vendetta
against all who called us "out of control" or "insane"
We were cool before "cool" was cool
Crazed before "crazed" was cool
Darkness was our veil,
Daylight was our mask
except we always stayed true
To the pain, we were true
To the death, we were true
And we were hated for it.

Our chariot was St. James the First,
its war paint was our boiled blood
as indestructible as our will
as dependable as our resilience
His war cry was that of a thousand horses
his teeth were metal fangs.

Destiny bought us together like falling satellites
It was halfway through the long night
a dark and stormy nightmare covered in white
Our minds in search of a binding light
And then, a firelight from a firefight
struck the darkness of the night
and ripped the blanket of stars from the sky
A blinding light of truth that blinded the Moon
and scared the constellations away
the Universe couldn't keep us caged
we made our own dimensions
We made our own rules, and broke them too

We swung from tires hanging from the Tree of Knowledge
we reminisced fighting on the plains of Gaul
argued with Shakespeare over love
We got down like James Brown
We got ashed and dirty in Gatsby's mansion
We shared in every dream and danger
We created Chaos Communism

The usual unusuals amongst a lineup of revolutionaries
legendaries suspected of taking history
and making it ours
destroying the future that was to be
and carving our names in the sidewalk
We made dreams out of reality
We made Heaven out of Hell
If only for a night, a moment
And the world knew we were more than boys
more than men
Angel's wings and devil's horns
Satan's smile and God's tears
Destroyers of boundaries
Creators of worlds
Spreading profanity like confetti

We dined with demigods
we drank with sirens
In the end, only the Devil felt cheated
but he knows he'll never have us
Wolves are too cunning for the snake
and the pack is far too strong.

We were the feral few
The reckless and the brave
The cunning and the crazed
We were


Kyle D

As she stepped into the M.E.’s chamber
The light was uncomfortably bright.
The policeman held her by one arm
As she took in an unwelcome sight:
A sheeted body lay on a slab,
a human who had come to harm.
The medical examiner pulled back the sheet
And she could no more deny.

Her son looked peaceful and composed,
almost as if he was asleep.
The needle tracks upon his arms
Betrayed addictions hold was deep.
“Yes” she said, “this is my son.”
There was little else to tell.
She claimed his body from the state
thus sparing him a pauper’s grave.
An Overdose was ruled the cause
The antidote administered was too late
With ceremony she buried him
In hopes of Heaven, in fears of Hell
Her tears betray a common grief
In Purgatory now she dwells.

The sad aftermath of death by overdose. An epidemic among American youth

I breathe in your scent for the first time in weeks
A heated red blush then runs to my cheeks
It feels like forever since I've held you close
You are like a drug, and I need a dose.
You have the softest red hair
I can run my hands through
You are the most gentle person,
I truly love you.

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