"...Love is more like war than a rose.
They are both deceptively beautiful,
But love spills more than just
One drop of blood when it gets mishandled.
And unlike a flower, love is resilient.
It takes more than a few ****** battles
Fought deep in muddy trenches
To break the bond between two soldiers.
Against all odds, love finds ways to survive
Even the most disparaging circumstances..."

I am what I am and I am ugly
But that is ok
My life is meant for something other than to be looked at
And craved after by many
Although this too is noble in itself.
No, I am different, am other,
too loud and proud and caring.
I am meant for different things where
I sketch skyscapes with my words
And turn minds with my musings
And I don't need appreciation for the body that does it.
I have lumps and marks and redness
But my arms are strong for lifting
And my brain quick to change the things that I see fitting.
So, do not cry that you are ugly,
Be happy that you are, for you are made for different things
And different people too.

why do i have to feel
  i'm probs in the ugliness
  living in green
  making my heart feel pokey
  feeling grizzly and god awful
  buhbut
  absolutely dismal +color fade

Two dead girls, flayed into leaves on the forest floor. Butterfly knife not so flitting, more like flying through the air, cutting whatever it dares come across. Mostly pearls, but then again you see a lot of baby opossums drifting up from the side of the road these days.

Cotton, cotton filling the mouths of anger hungry boys, not so sharp jaws and those dull blue eyes you see on every magazine cover. Who knew death looked so fresh dressed in tattoos and bruises that are the same color as your moms wedding night wine?

Tell me, boy, where did you get your emotions? Is that mania an heirloom? Or did you buy it from whoever first sold you that Xanax? Did you rip them from the heart of the first girl you told looked beautiful in blood?

You ***** ******* liar. You filthy thief of virgins' teeth, swaddling your broken skin knuckles in baby bonnets.

I hope God finds His way under your greasy fingernails, your greedy skin and stained teeth. I hope the waves that toss your thoughts only curl towards the bottom and your heart only strains it's sides to reach your father's ghost.

There are so many messy, sloppy secrets behind every self hating fool with a pension for roadside crying and cheap liquor shopping. A desire for so many I'm-only-trying-to-pay-off-my-loans ladies, covered in last weeks work and warm old men cigarette breath and guilt. I hope for all eternity that you find something worth panhandling for, whether it be disease or love. I hope God finds you in the sewers, whimpering your sister's name and your brother's license plate.

(The devil went to find what's his, down in Los Angeles where you last hid.)

Stop everything and leave
Stop time and make everything pause
I need a break

This mad world...
It's driving me crazy
They are driving me crazy

I need him to stop
I need her to stop
I just need everyone to stop

We all have to stop being so selfish
We all have to stop being so cruel
We all have to stop being so ugly

Ugly on the inside,
Pretty on the outside,
The world's a mess

We need to stop
Have kindness and care
No more evil and ugliness in our hearts

**stop