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Brent Kincaid Apr 2018
Demons of change taunted me
If I don’t do what I always did;
Fear of being strange haunted me.
What punishment for what I hid?
Maybe things will be a bit better
And settle down a bit after while
But life doesn’t seem to work well
Like when I could wink and smile.

My looks used to get me a ways,
Where mornings could turn into nights
I could have fun and party for days
And everything seemed fun and right.
I started out drinking and using
To overcome all my social fears.
It was just for weekends, partying,
But then it turned into many years.

I bought the drinks and the grass
And suddenly I was a welcome guy.
Later I too publicly fell on my ***
And nobody even asked me why.
But I caught myself holding ****
And *****, and keeping quiet
So nobody would come knocking
To party hearty and to try it.

And then one day, demons came
And heartlessly showed the truth;
They showed me myself by name,
I was no longer a pretty youth.
Only those as bad as I had become
Could stand to spend time with me.
I came to and realized I was numb
That my life had turned into tragedy.
AD Snail Jan 2018
Another year has left and gone,
Fear has now consumed my soul,
Unable to take back all the foregone.

They promised me my life wasn't a pawn,
But I don't think I can keep leading myself on.

I try not to worrying over all the issues and unknowns.

As the clock turns twelve, my heart skips a beat,
Fear is clenching it; trying to bring it into a waltz.
My thoughts screaming out to me,
'Don't allow it to sweep you away!'

As everyone is consumed with joy, making new years resolutions;
I am consumed by anxiety, paranoia sweeping me off my feet,
Singing to me all the things to panic about.

As everyone shall party, and stay awake,
I shall go to bed, trying to sleep and keep all the thoughts at bay.
Bella Nov 2017
Am I the,
Artistic type?
The one who sees the world through a different lens
who turns sounds into colors
and sites in to Smells
into feeling
and two children running are not children running
they’re Happiness
Joy
their giggles turn into Yellow and Pastel Pink
turn to Sunshine
turn to Waking
turn to Serenity
Relaxing on the beach
where you can hear the baby blue and white waves
and see the soft calming sand slipping through your fingers and toes
turning to…

Maybe-- I am the,
Partying type.
Ragers
Dance Grinding
music Pounding
the same beat of our heads
of our bodies
flashing lights
the dark and the heat
Wild
Drinking Screaming
loving one another with our bodies
not caring who it is
because
our bodies don't care
if we are in sync
what is the difference
the same…

What if I'm the,
Frantic type?
the Busy type
Scrambling, Rushing
time is something I don't have Time for
running is my Past
if only I had Passed Time
noise flies by
not looking anywhere but straight
car horns, buildings, wind blowing
the sound of friction across my own skin and the skin of those like me.
that is my Familiarity
Air I do not Breathe
it flows through me.
it hits me and I consume it
I do not Break for it
I cannot Break for it
I…

How about,
the Silent One?
nose in a book,
hearing the voices in the background.
looking up occasionally, to see the others.
see their confusion.
their Hindsight is my Foresight,
I understand what will happen before it does.
because,
I've seen it before,
I can look ahead,
see the outcome,
slow down the world like it's a video in an editing software that I can stop.
Slow down.
Rewind.
Rewatch.
that I can…

Perhaps,
I am all of them.
Perhaps,
it doesn't matter.
I can turn the sounds rushing by me hitting my skin into color
I can separate time into partying and people watching
Both are possible.
life doesn't have to pass in one form,
it can be Technicolor
and Beautiful at the same time.
sound can pass into colors
and life can either Fly
or Pause-- and drag on.
Either way, it's okay--
because it's me.
donia kashkooli May 2017
i don't want to feel anything ever again

-d.k.
Brent Kincaid Dec 2016
It’s Saturday night at the neighborhood bar
And I know that’s where my good friends are
So I plan to be there to party all night.
I hope we have fun and there are no fights.
But somebody’s bound to shoot of their mouth
So my mellow party plans might just go south.
That’s often how it goes with drunk boys and girls,
But I wouldn’t miss a minute for all the world.

Knee-walking ****-faced. That’s what I’ll be.
That’s how we do weekends in our society.
We’ll play chugalug games and drain our cup
And by the end of the evening throw it all up.
Knee-walking ****-faced, slapping some backs
Probably end up in some total stranger’s sack!
Of the Hammered Hell Club, I’m a member.
The meetings run from December to December.

I like this place where everyone knows my name.
Where everyone has their own self to blame.
We’re all full grown, and nobody here’s a kid.
We each take responsibility for whatever we did.
We’re true believers in a bit of cutting loose.
So what if it means we end up puking in our shoes?

Knee-walking ****-faced. That’s what I’ll be.
That’s how we do weekends in our society.
We’ll play chugalug games and drain our cup
And by the end of the evening throw it all up.
Knee-walking ****-faced, slapping some backs
Probably end up in some total stranger’s sack!
Of the Hammered Hell Club, I’m a member.
The meetings run from December to December.

Some friends I know say I’m not too bright
To go out, and stay out drinking at night
But they don’t have the problems like me.
But it contributes to my state of sanity
To get a little crazy, and **** a few brain cells
And hang out with my peers I know **** well!
Right now I have no time for any deep sorrow.
Party tonight, leave the worry ’til tomorrow.
Twenty-nine years ago, this could have been the lyrics to my theme song; background music to my life.
donia kashkooli Jun 2016
one day i will find the right words, and they will be simple.” - jack kerouac

pancakes on a sunday morning, jack daniel’s, getting really drunk then running naked through the forest,  mosh pits, double rainbows, old trucks, freebandz, panic attacks, overflowing bubble baths, woodstock 1969, lemonade, slamming my head into wet pavement, the cranberries, jumping into someone’s arms after having gone years without seeing them, american spirits, crying, heavy metal music, innocence, laughing until a hospital visit is necessary, ragers, smiles on the faces of five year old children after stripping the shelves of a candy store bare, severe depression, the 90s, basketball hoops in driveways, putting on makeup at 1 AM, the mojave desert, life.

-z. vega
Gabby Muir May 2016
By 19 she had forgotten how to smile
Wiping the running mascara from her eyelids
And the blood from the corner of her mouth.
Gone girl, growing up unchecked in the bathroom of a seedy bar
Her smudged kisses on the cracked mirror an offering
to the place she calls her temple.
She is the goddess of Ecstasy and having too much to drink,
Stumbling with strangers through the city, falling into taxis,
And waking up somewhere new every morning.
It was she invented the walk of shame,
And mastered the art of forgetting who she was.
The nightlife angel, sticky with champagne,
Gorgeous and passed out on the cement,
Her innocence left behind in a trail of glitter,
Broken bottles, and whatever it was she took last night.
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