Everything has a price.
Each time the bell toles.
A payment is made.
The rhythmic thump.
Is only a reminder.
Of how taxing it all is.
There is no.
First prize.
No encore.
As the curtain falls.
All that is waiting is silence.
And darkness.
Only death has not come.
He stands patiently to the side.
Grinning.
It seems.
This is his favorite game.

'Do you like me? Or no?'

Shut up.

You are igniting these forgotten feelings.

Shut up.

You make me feel like it's fourth of July.

Shut up.

It's not Valentine's Day.

.... and most especially April Fools.

Shut up.

You are making me forget who I am.

Wax hammers melting under a suspicious sun,
bubbling on the soft tarmac road unspun.
Sarcastic grass struts in impotent arrogance,
at the rustling of a billion pointless paper bags.
As sparkling sin, trusts a single pointless poem.

The truth is...*
I fall upon the ground
A seedling in your grass
Whether I willed or not
To come knocking again
And find myself at a loss
For not giving up was my
Plan and I still can never
Win a battle no one but
I would have even fought.

last night i wanted you to **** me
but now i want you to love me

Many people will stand around and stab you in the back.
Many people will hurt you for not going and doing something stupid.

But if life was easy and painless then everybody will end up going insane.
The truth doesn't mean anything unless the lies and statesman, are in order.

In the end.
you will be long enough dead.
So why not be crazy.
Why not have fun.
Why not try new things.

In order to see the rainbow of life,
You will need to go through the storm of death.