I had my ten seconds of fame,
Underneath the low hanging vine
Of a wire, that was my calling anyway,
To be one who had the guts to inspire
Others with dangerous games and tricks,
Risk others lives in the name of getting kicks!
Skateboard in hand, rockets flying, grand stands,
Kartwheels, I'm just a teen boy without hair,
Why should you all act like you care?
Into this black hole lifestyle of mine,
I could never give up or dare to quit,
But hey, it wouldn't be "my life," would it?

You drilled holes on my skin
And peeked at my within.


F.Z.**N

There is a hole in the window and
in the evenings the
sun slinks back to earth,
the hole flutters pathetically in
the wind. There is no more
energy in the air, and outside—
outside is gray.

The brick walls are crumbling
into dust that is ingested,
readily. Lilia braids
your hair again as you stare
at nothingness, holding back tears.

I made holes
Inside myself
Bigger than the holes
That you created
Inside me

A bit for someone here
A bit there
And sometimes they don't add up to anythhing whole
But you are so busy dancing
Delivering
You don't have time to notice
Or are afraid to notice
And then one day you have to look
And its true
All of your pieces fill up other peoples holes
But they don't fill
Your own...

She’s drilled holes into her temples
And tried to pull out memories with her bitten fingernails
She’s recited everything she’s said and heard
Into a ***** toilet bowl every night on the hour
She’s weeped a million times over
From her eyes and from her wrists,
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

And now the scars left over can’t scab
The phrases are written in morse code on her body
Her will has been evicted along with her soul
And she’s become zombified, a living piece of parchment
From which she’s tried so hard to erase the words
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

The sound of a voice tears hers apart every day
And the words they form she’s come to despise
So she’s taken up book burning,
Making every letter ever aimed at her head run for their lives
She’s even made her own name take off, and now she’s
Desperately pleading for eternal silence to be her savior
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

So when you see her in the hallways, she pretends she’s invisible,
Pretending that her presence won’t have any meaning to it,
Pretending that she’s not important enough to be noticed,
Because her motto is fake it
Until you make it.
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

And the ones that have told her she’s not good enough,
That she’s better off dead and no one will care,
They laugh at her and then they forget.
They come back around the next day to laugh at the same joke.
She looks in the mirror and tries to laugh like them,
Laughing so much, she begins to cry,
But the thing about remembering is that you don’t forget--

So when you hug her and tell her it’s alright,
That you love her and tell her she’s worth more than life itself,
Sing it to her, so she won’t forget.

Void and empty are holes
People fall into holes
Fall into love

Then the holes are no longer
but a memory and a poem
that when you read makes you smile