The silence is after a broken thunder in a
Place where lightning always strikes twice.

They run for cover for it rains in their direction
Others not touched but this storm opened up.

This is, was precipitation of clouded thoughts,
Anger not spoken but ventured in moments  

With a resounding silence lightning struck twice
And then the rumbling of wheels then muteness.

Then the quietness fell to screams of a instant now
Pasted, lighting strikes twice in the place of no words.

I lift it up, I plunge it down
And bang! There goes my childhood
Open my heart, yet make no sound
And bang! There goes my life.
I sit through life, I watch, I breathe
And bang! There goes my innocence
I turn, I spin, I help, appease
And bang! There goes my life.
I poke, I ****, I read, I write
And bang! There goes my memory
I lose my hearing, breathing, sight
And bang! There goes my life.
I touch, I tear, I bite, I kick
And bang! There go my youthful dreams
I run ‘til I make myself sick
And bang! There goes my life.
I hear the door swing back and forth
And bang! Remember vividly
A million times I’ve run this course
But bang! There goes my life.
I surrender, I wave my flag
And bang! My soul inside a box
And from the depths my self I drag
To bang! My way through life.

Woke up late
Day's shot to hell
But, hey it's Friday
So, I guess it's just as well

Called in,
booked the day off
I figured what the hell
Had a coffee and ten cigarettes
But, it's Friday...can't you tell

It never fails to come around
The Friday morning curse
There's nothing you can say or do
That will fix or make it worse
By six a.m the day is shot
And it hasn't started yet
Breakfast is a coffee...cold
And at least ten cigarettes

Figured since
I'm staying home
I'll watch some tv shows
Cable bill got missed this month
I guess that's how it goes

It's Friday
so, I'm going
To head down to the bar
But, I find out in my driveway
That someone stole my car

It never fails to come around
The Friday morning curse
There's nothing you can say or do
That will fix or make it worse
By six a.m the day is shot
And it hasn't started yet
Breakfast is a coffee...cold
And at least ten cigarettes

I think
I'll call a taxi
That'll get me to the bar
Then I think
You *****
You left your wallet in the car

The day
is going nowhere
And it seems, I am too
But, hey
At least it's Friday
And to me...it's nothing new

It never fails to come around
The Friday morning curse
There's nothing you can say or do
That will fix or make it worse
By six a.m the day is shot
And it hasn't started yet
Breakfast is a coffee...cold
And at least ten cigarettes


No wife
No car, a day off too
No tv shows to see
There's nothing
more can happen
That can make this worse for me

Breakfast, it's
cold coffee and
at least ten cigarettes
But, hell
It's frickin' Friday
And the day ain't started yet...

It never fails to come around
The Friday morning curse
There's nothing you can say or do
That will fix or make it worse
By six a.m the day is shot
And it hasn't started yet
Breakfast is a coffee...cold
And at least ten cigarettes

War
Is Like
Water and Whiskey

Changing men
Every shot
Altering consciousness

The more
Shots one takes
The stronger the drink

War
Take a shot
Whiskey
Take another

And I wander
How many
People in bars
Are still
Waging war
In their minds

They call me a ****
Tell me I’m a *****
That I’m fat
And that I’m ugly.
Yet they don’t know that when I go home
I hear it all again.
The students voices echo in my mind.
The long sleeves I wear to school
even in 90 degree weather
covers the scars.
I try to become invisible,
to walk by unnoticed,
but it never works.
They sense my presence and lash out at me,
Like a wolf on it’s prey.
I go home and cry myself to sleep.
Every night their words echo in my ears,
never going away.
Messages with the same words heard every day.
Suggestions of killing myself.
It wouldn’t make much difference
Just one less person crowding the halls.
One less person silently screaming inside.
One less person to believe I’m worthless.
Tears stream down my face as she ***** the gun.
The song that originally saved my life begins to play.
I close my eyes,
and with a deep breath he pulls the trigger.
The only thing left of me being the note that I wrote.
“I’m sorry...I can’t do this anymore”
with blood splattered across the pages.

I am nothing but a target to you,
painted red and white
with a bull's eye on my forehead.
Something that you practice on
firing away until you hit the spot
that will end me completely.
But it's okay,
because I don't mind what you say about me.
I don't care that you take out your anger on me
because I know something that you don't.
As you **** your gun and take your aim
glaring me down as I smile,
you pull the trigger
and I don't even flinch,
because the only sound is an empty click
of the gun you fired too many times
and had missed.
So you see,
I don't mind being your target
and it doesn't matter what you fire my way
because you have no bullets
you have absolutely nothing
to attack me with
and I am so sorry if that's not okay... not.