Why are some days harder than others.
Why is it that today of all days it got a little harder?
Why of all days did I think about you and cry a little harder?
Maybe it's because I finally see you for who you really are.
Maybe its because I finally realize everything you said, did and felt was an out right absolute lie.
Maybe its because I finally realized no matter what moments we had shared together and no matter how special I thought they were...they actually weren't...
If you asked me what killed me more... I wouldn't have an answer.
How the fuck do you tell yourself it wasen't real?
How do you tell your heart..
It was all a lie?
The love was all just onesided?
How do you tell yourself you have to forget?
You have to move on?
That even though your heart might be breaking....
Love has cursed me...
And so have you.
I'm glad you can walk this earth without feeling anything.
Never loving anyone.
Never feeling the excruciating pain of a broken heart.
The kind that paralyzes you.
The kind that leaves a permanent mark on your heart.
I fucking hate it.
A roster of rotten rogues and rascals
Rapscallions and self-righteous racketeers.
Wrapped themselves in the American Flag,
Like Wicked Witches of the West in drag.
Not a whit of statesmanship in the bunch.
Hearts as black as coal, I have a hunch.
If we go by behavior, the devil is alive;
Queen bees who hate the workers in the hive.
They started with genocide of all those here,
Native Americans before the whites drew near.
They kept it up by importing a million black folks
They owned and raped and made up ugly jokes.
In time they treated Irish and Italians the same.
Let them come here and then played a sick game.
Promises to those, the non-Europeans, were not kept.
They heaped them with bias while good Christians slept.
It has been going on forever since antiquity.
They make our fine country a den of iniquity;
When not operating from a sense of disdain
They run their show on hatred, death and pain.
They claim they work for the people, but
Most of the people can tell what is really what.
Distressingly disgusting, diabolically divisive
They do their best when citizens are permissive.
In time they decided monopolies were great.
They let those with money put up the gates
And charge those with little to pass through
To get food, water, places to live. Not new.
Old country villainy was given a new face
And soon only a few creeps owned the place.
They cheated and swindled and laughed at those
Who starved, rebelled and fought and died.
Rich children splurged on geegaws far and wide.
Soon the list of enemies grew in the mansions,
They included over half of regular American citizens:
Blacks women and poor people were told shut up.
There was not enough nectar to put into their cups.
Gays, agnostics and atheists were treated as if
They were the living minions of the Christian devil
Liberals and objections to conservatives called evil.
Anyone who had issues to the gathering of massive wealth
Was treated as a criminal who wanted to steal their wealth.
The self-righteous racketeers bought newspapers and lies
All created to be swallowed whole by the lazy and unwise
Who could not see that they bought and sold more crooks
That got into office and wrote evil laws into the books.
This is not a new game, in this computerized info age.
This is an ancient costume covering up the old outrage.
It only takes for most of us to stand by and not protest
When leaders lie, and cheat and steal and call it a jest.
Depicting a beauty ethereal
I’ve become your sun
In the morning
And the moon
Of your night
I’ve caught you
By every lie
Knotted in every line.
You reach for me
Clinging to the caress
Of the cadence
I have penned
The unspoken depths
Among this fabricated fancy
Finally, I’ve caught you
Yet not before long
I too am enthralled
Longing for your trusting gaze.
Dark haired girl
Eyes like her soul on fire--
Have I met you before?..
No, you say
Yet I have
Someone like you is unforgettable
You cut your hair short
Changed up your voice
Your fancy dresses turned to jeans....
But that fire in your voice
That passion in your soul
Burns brighter than anything
I've ever seen
I've known you before
And not just from my dreams
Wreaked havoc in my life
Yet mended it through and through
Changed my looks
Made me into a man
Yet when I asked
You shook your head
You didn't know me....
And that was the first time you ever looked me in the eyes
And knowingly unknowingly hurt me
Looking in your eyes
Reading your thoughts
Painted random lies
Truth was it not!
Holding your hands
Feeling the chills
Walking till the end
Your silence kills
No more kisses
For you proved fake
No one misses
Then why am I still awake?
The pain in my heart
Sinking my soul
You thought you were smart
Are you comfortable in that hole?
Your grave seems empty
Flowers, I got for you
As now you're among plenty
Death too soon, came upon you...!
Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies
Do you ever say the truth, Ben?
One of these days, you'll be your own demise
You've got to square up, man
I'm forgiving, I don't strike the iron easy
But your constant stream of lies, now and then
It impacts me, it makes me think about who you are to me
You're a horrible person, Ben.
You're full of yourself, you're a liar, you're egoistic
You've never given me anything worthy of my time
I wouldn't ever call you my friend, Ben.
Yet you seem to cling to me, like a fly to a box of shit
I call myself bad names often, but compared to you?
I'm truly a heart of gold, Ben.
she sees the light
she sees the world as it is
fire burning at the bottom of her heart
that fire ignited by the very touch
the whisper leaving the hint of a whisper
the flare of her skin as the hands run down her side
she’s fighting the urge to scream out loud
this isn’t happening
not to her
she sees the light
she sees the world as it is
she sees his eyes that are lies
the story of love he told her
the night the wind howled in her ear
the first night the I love you left her lips
No, my heart did not beat faster
When I caught that glimmer in your eyes
No, it is not a home for secrets masqueraded in laughs
Nor a drunken love in disguise
No. My pillow is not a rainforest
Holding my tears, my cries
And I am certainly not enamoured enough
To suffer the low lows, climb the high highs
Of course I do not expect the universe
To let your whimsical words actualize
No. I do not whisper your name in the dark,
When the fear intensifies
No. I do not want to hear your voice
Your cheers of victory or exasperated sighs
The tears keep rolling down my face
I guess I'm good at telling lies.