The attempts
Of the feeble minded
Trying to
Express themselves.

I looked for love inside your eyes.
What I saw almost made me blind.

I saw a stranger.
He was cold, distant, evil, and revolting.
I looked for love inside your eyes.

Who am I that you are unable to make love to me?
Why do I feel as if I am not here with you?
Do I matter?

I am just a toy in this filthy play.
Not a human worth of tender and devotion.
Where are you?
How did I lose you?

As the years pass by
The monster inside your eyes becomes clearer to me.

You think I am just over reacting.
How can I warm to eyes that are making hate to someone else instead of making love to me.

I've found where you are.
I've seen the pictures.
As graphic as can be.
I now know what i takes to turn you on.
Women....people like me.
Tortured, humiliated,used and hated.
All these images burned into your brain.

Did you ever imagine (at age 12)
The first time your seen a ****** photo.
That you were dooming every aspect of intimacy.
Breaking the heart of someone you'd love.

If it all stopped here.
I could bear it.
Instead you brought the evil in and continued to feed it.
As I looked for love inside your eyes.

Hands printed, hair pulled
Looking the age of thirteen years old.
A simple photo
A simple video
Controling reality, distorting the woman in exaggerated *******.
As I looked for love inside your eyes.

The evil eyes
Windows of a broken soul.
Warped by the lens into the background of your phone.

Souls never matter
Only bodies do
To those me. Who consume it (just like you)
A image burned inside your brain.
A image I see everytime I close my eyes.

When does it end?

I can tell you this.
It has not ended.
It has eaten you up.
It spreads like cancer.
Can you feed off of hatred and anger?
Can you break free and learn to love?

You say words.
Just full of excuses.
Feeding your soul on poisen.

If only you could see what I see.
If only you could feel what I feel.

**** has destroyed our relationship.
Tell me.
Was it worth it??

Mr. Rory Richards
Lived his life,
Taking garbage
Out at night.
He shovelled drives
He swept walks,
He listened intently
While others talked.
Others talked.

When Rory wasn't
Weeding the garden,
He was outside
Hanging laundry.
Moms were jealous,
Dads were shamed,
But whispering neighbours
Never complained.
Rory's good
At the husband game.
He presented well.
The neighbours continued
To tsk and tsk.

On his way home
From work,
He picked up the kids
From daycare,
He'd find time
To volunteer there.
He'd have treats
At home for them,
And their friends.

He volunteered with
Cubs and Scouts,
Always finding
Extra time
For jamborees
And overnights.

One day the cops
Came on the scene,
Rory wasn't
What he seemed:
His computer
Showed a different man,
A lurking, luring
Child **** fan.
And the neighbours'
Tsks cresendoed.

At his trial
He sat abandoned,
But neighbours there
Gave witness to
A man they thought
They surely knew.
A family man
In his pew.
All his life
He lived beside them,
A man they let
Their kids rely on.

Recorded off the cuff: https://soundcloud.com/user4081486/after-a-night-out

How can I ****** look at you right now?
All of you
You're all just ******...
You're ****** ******* yourselves out
You're not finding love
You're not finding anything that fulfills
How can I look at you?

All you're getting met is
a physical need
at best
Some of you probably not even that
And here I am
After a night out
I'm meant to look at you?
And get off?

You look into the eyes of these men
as they *******
You think you're getting what you need?
I doubt it
I really doubt it
Am I getting what I need?
I doubt it
I really doubt it

I feel more empty every night
All I'm doing is watching
Here you are
Giving your everything
to these men
And I'm watching
I'm not getting what I want
I'm not getting what I need
How can I imagine that you are?

Money is a **** producer, who mascarades as a professional film producer, promising fame and fortune to young girls in LA.

Money exploits us all, telling us to cry on his **** as he forces it down each of our throats.

MMM

Money talks its valuable poetry, cha ching as we take the money shot, the money shot, the money shot...

Blaw! we take the money and run. Exploited, every one of us carries this inflated value; running around with our heads chopped off.
Where did we put our heads?
Not a one realizing how.
We put our heads collectively in the sand.

Money talks, but we dont. Money walks, but we wont. Money marches, but we cant stand. Can't form a coherent sentence while we're getting ******.

"If my dad finds out he will destroy me!"
"I won't tell."

Money wants us young, dumb, and full of idiom; and as the bubble bursts, we can't help but feel depressed.

Our faces are all over the internet. America the beautiful, I can hardly see your face behind the biggest, blackest ****.

If you want to turn anyone into your own personal *****, first you got to get the money!

Money is king. But is he kind? Money is our god, but what kind?

Money money money, MONEY!

The lyrics of every rap song on the top 100

Can we get some hoes and some money that we can throw's up in here!?

It's what we all want, and its what we all fear. Money controls us and rules us without a peer.

Money replaces trust, it replaces common decency, and puts a friendly mask on the face of a murdering monster.

Money makes me sick. It smells like burning flesh if you read it just right, and put your nose up real tight, it can start to burn you too.

Roll a hundo, give Ben a sniff. Money doesn't care if you sell it off to buy drugs or a train wreck. Money isn't ethical and neither are you.

Money wants us all to bow down, and when we rise up, we look like monopoly men.

Give me some money and I can change the world into a paradise on earth; give your local bank some money, and our world looks like a shopping mall.

Whenever I look at you
I know what I'm doing
Isn't making it any better
But I still look at you
Almost every day
I try to feed myself
With your willingness
Your "beauty"
Which isn't really your beauty
But just a cheap
Shortened version thereof
A minute long relationship
If I think you're really hot
And it's a sad one
It's a rebound I live
Every day
I keep rebounding with you
But it doesn't seem like
I ever bounce away from her
Sometimes I wish
You were someone real
But then I'd be crying
Even harder
Because I'd be giving more
Of myself away to you
So maybe it's better that
I only see images of you
I cry enough already
And I need a rebound
But rebounds don't work for me
You don't work for me
But I still give myself to you

Looking at hundreds of women
I come across you
No pleasure shown in your face
No moaning from your lips
No enthusiasm in your motion
You are not here to pay for college
Or to cover the bills
You have no choice
No choice at all
And here we are
In our cushy chairs
Spending our spare time
Getting off on you
I regret any pleasure I had
That came at your cost
Please forgive me
If you can find the will
In what's left of your heart
A sickness lives within us
If we carry this on

I'll press my face against the wall
and pretend it's your cheek
on mine
even though it's cold
I need to watch less
****-o-graphy
It's making me
lonely

my spine curls
third party
two bodies
one body
oh
X