There's a centipede inside my heart
And it tears this ***** apart
For the bug is my pain
Sometimes it travels to my brain
Where the centipede might slither around
Causing more pain to the areas bound
It's this thing inside me, my heart and mind
It mangles my brain where dangerous thoughts are unkind
It shatters my heart leaving it broken and pained
And, from it, everyday I am drained
There's a centipede inside of me
All the torture, pain, and suffering, from it, I will never be free

"Why do we fall?
So we can learn to pick ourselves up."

Ive fallen more times than there are stars. I have more scars than there are sand particles on the beach.

Brought up in a world
Only knowing punishment and attitude ajustment.

I was killed by a look.
Well, that and the sharp pain in my ribs.
Forced into insanity
Only hope being prosperity.
I thought of suicide more times than a pencil breaks in a school year.

Where is justice?
Where is hope anymore.
Because depression moved into my life with a title wave
Crashing into my soul with an intensity
That overtook my prosperity.
Torture.
Yes
A word
All too true for me.
Two by four with nails sticking out below my knees
They punctured just below my kneecap.
Still got the scar.
All i was able to do was whimper.
Ooh how fun that was BELIEVE ME
I did survive.
Only a sophomore now.
With gunpowder scent for a hint
Of whats next from my dad and his game.
I can expect
Nothing but death
To float me away.
Only to float
Float
Float

Are you still beating your babies?
Are you still punching your kid?
Are you still calling it discipline;
Not the worst thing you ever did?
Is it always a case of deserving
The punishment you mete out?
Where you teach them what is what;
Call them disgusting names and shout?

Break out the heavy leather belt
Go cut me a big switch
You kids are ******* me off
You’re giving me a big itch.
Bend yourself over here
Don’t run and make me catch you.
Remember this is all your fault.
You’re making me do this to you.

When you get in the mood to punish
Do dress in a special costume?
Does it have to take place in a woodshed
Or in some special kind of room?
Do you double up your fist and hit
Or do you have special equipment?
Does the physical treatment you hand out
Contribute to your fulfillment?

Break out the heavy leather belt
Go cut me a big switch
You kids are ******* me off
You’re giving me a big itch.
Bend yourself over here
Don't run and make me catch you.
Remember this is all your fault.
You’re making me do this to you.

In a world of deserving irony
You’d have to wear a disguise
So neighbors would know about you
And authorities could be made wise.
Then someone could call in specialists
To give some of what you give
And teach you eye-for-an-eye truth
About the way you live.

Break out the heavy leather belt
Go cut me a big switch
You kids are ******* me off
You’re giving me a big itch.
Bend yourself over here
Don't run and make me catch you.
Remember this is all your fault.
You’re making me do this to you.

As rain sheets the tiled homes of those housed in,

Time punctures essence in kind for broken men,

Stable types ever walking the barred walls alone,

Frightened eyes shake as if to hide from the pen.




Robes and hammers rule the day at sentence start,

Fallen angels stand tall as war imprisoned all,

Not legal jousts or rotten speeches pouring forth,

Little minds, little times and little words will fall.




Scratch's take on meanings of calendars forth,

One month, two year, each decade decay in nests,

No humour can ever puncuate this hellish playground,

The state after all foots with money no kinds rests.




Slack hands make new wifes out of slender men,

Fear leaves one hollow and you make space for us,

Practice heaves a heavy burden for warden now home,

A crested ***** awaits those without shield or fuss.

Bleed me dry,
Desiccate,
I beg you;
Anything
Would be less
Torturous
Than this love
I feel for
You, you, you.