I miss you
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I still think about you
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I'm sorry
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I love you
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hi
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-eleven­

As soon as you make something seem terrible,
it becomes
slightly terrible.

Someone could be using that very something in a good way,
but as soon as someone comes up with a bad way it could be used,
that thing becomes tainted by thought.

Those people ignore the good in that thing,
and imagine a bad future with it,
creating a taboo that is almost inescapable.

Our thoughts create our future.
Give things a chance.
Think positive.

The future is in our hands.
It is also in the hands of bad people.
We must coexist and cease blame on things.

I was mechanical, husked from a man,
pieced back together with my mechanical hands;
and though my only pride left rest in my hands,
I was both machine and man.

You sat me beside you and gave me a name,
you told me you loved me and asked for the same;
I acknowledged and promised to give you the same,
though I could not give you a name.

Your delicate question came with a tear
as you whispered it into my mechanical ears;
but your question only echoed between empty ears,
and my skin began to rust from your tear.

You left one last touch and sighed your goodbye,
you walked so far away until you were gone from my eyes;
and so I shut off my hands, my ears, and my eyes
so that the last thing I felt was 'goodbye.'

Some say you can know someone
From the contents of their purse
From their favorite music
Or what they want to take with them in a hearse

I say it's a far simpler method
To just look at one's search history
Which is why I messed around with the settings
And made my Google tracks a mystery

The war is coming rising rivers of dark red blood will be spilt, stop
Innocent lives spent in the pursuit of greed, glory, and hate, stop
Machine gun turret, grenades, poison gas, planes, submarines, stop
Bullet, blades, blood, enemy-entrenched, death in the mud, stop
Children becoming men before their time dying on your dime, stop
Next war, with oh so many new ways to terminate life, stop
New technology, modern mass media telling us how to feel, stop
Building bombs to **** one another leaving behind crying mothers, stop
Bigger bomb tap that atom go out and get those yellow *******, stop
Pandora’s box opened up with bitter metal bearing baring hate, stop
Two cities decimated, burning the earth, Heaven cries black tar tears, stop
The cycle continues from war to war the tragedy never seems to end, stop
Human horror, I am begging for the love of all humanity please, stop

natural elements
meet
unnatural monuments

primal ingredients
mixed
in a mold of obedience

we'll have none of this
and flee
dull predictability

we weren't meant to be
asleep
through the voyage of history

so we daydream in mutiny
to feed
newborn possibilities

Fake malware warnings
Are the most annoying thing
(To me) on the web

Scattered things like lost souls
Scream their futility.
Trinkets and trash charged with endless possibilities.
Illusions of how life could be better so,
I collect scraps of waste masked as human invention
New technologies, toys, and other luxuries
Drive that dark spear of desire deeper into my being.
Want is a sickness, a fever that cycles on and off.
I have I want, I want I need, I need I get.
I get I have, I have I want, I want I need
A scary situation and in its pursuit
I place myself in painful positions
Paying with large chunks of my life.
I get more and as it become easier.
My urges get stronger and stranger,
Joy becomes that much harder to find.
Get it get it get it get it get it
Buy buy buy buy buy buy
Till the pile stacks up so high
That I live and die inside
The world of crap I bought.
Once I start it is hard to stop
And I become the sole possessor
Of this sick collectors disposition.