you are talking to him.
why?
do you tell me lies?
you say he is hated.
by you, by many.
yet,
you are talking to him.
laughing with him.
smiling at him.
are you a liar?
or are you simply a coward?

As the time drags on you can absorb all that surrounds you in a time much different than all others.
You look at the clock and it may choose to go forwards or even backwards, strange.
It is absolute madness I know; but it is also something to make you think. If time is straight forward then why can we feel it bend so easily?
The rules are twisted and manipulated, something as concrete as time is then changed.
It drags on though, like that last drop of syrup from the glass bottle. So sweet and decadent you must indulge in it before it is gone; time that is.

Who
                               Are
  You
           To
                                     Judge
                  Others
For

     What
                       You
                                      Are

              NOT

<Insert Poem Here>

<Insert Silent Sympathies Here>

<Insert Spiraling Tenancies Here>
   (Wait...No. Not that.)
<Delete Line>

<Insert Self Doubt Here>

<Insert Friends Here>
   [File Not Found]
::Comment:: What about me?

<Insert Apology Here>

<Insert Regret Here>

<Insert Pain Here>

<Insert Poem Here>


<RvL>

I raise the bone up to my two juicy lips
and I purse.
Here comes the carcinogen, the miasmic smoke,
the old ghost.

But, my
love,
it's not like it
was.

My love,
it's
not like it was.

I pick into the basalt black, like a boss.
I exhale,
mining verses from my vernacular
like
poisonous
metal.

But, my
love,
it's not like it
was.

It's nothing like it was,
and I'm perfectly fine.



In a manner of speaking.

You've heard all of my stories.
You're versed in what I do,
but when I ask it of you,
you won't try anything new.

Tell me,
how should we progress, then?
Or would you like to stay
within the shade forever,
never knowing, never knowing
more
             more
                           more
        more
                        more
   more
      

           more?

It's looking like
history books
and web pages
tell what once was
as an instructional
or, how to
for the future,
as every trend
spins on the same
blueberry,
and what once was
shall be, again.

I used to think
I might not have
the best grip on ****
because of that Cindy, and
her gaslit basement.
But my eyes are valid.
I'm not slitting throats,
I'm just taking notes
on this tragic situation.
Joker and The Fool.

I'm part of some kind
of severely ****** up system,
whether I wish it or not.
I better learn to smile.
So watch me. Here:

^_^

Everything's bound
to a simple rule.
Everything dies,
and everything is alive
with some participation.

I can't shake it from my mind.
        Why should I?

All of my ancestors made the mistakes
I can't help
       but bear repeating.

Why shouldn't I?