…and yet this leaves
me guilty, this creation,
lifting and stunning
as my fist has often stunned
the delicate fish that dies
and leaves me as a recompense
a heavy flesh, scale within scale.

How long will it take her to understand that your blood is laced with loneliness?
That the smoke staining her tongue cannot subdue the angry taste of your mouth?
That the hands that hold her neck want to strangle the air encased under skin
and no song
or word
or feeling
can dilute you.
why did I wish you cared enough to **** the life out of me?
Why I wasn't enough to ****.
You play with my insecurities like kittens,
laughing at how they can't jump high enough
teasing with what's just out of reach,
I was a mouse weaving through the holes
I thought
I had gnawed in you
but your hands stopped me in my place:
put me in my place.
I am nothing but a comfort when the weight of the world
lands on your chest,
I'm your oxygen mask
as the plane starts to crash
and you swore up and down you loved me
but years have made it clear you don't know what that means.
Your words are an empty void
I would gravitate towards them,
let myself get ****** in
you told me I'm different
that you didn't want to hurt me
though years of pain beg to differ.
I should have called you puppet master  
instead I called you dear
and I have realized I deserve better,
that I don't have any more years to give you,
but I still craved your attention
and your jealousy
as though I could teach you love and how to feel it right.
But at 16 I had you figured out;
you've only regressed since then.
and I should be used to people letting me down;
etching their names in my heart as a reminder
but you were supposed to be the cure.
The end to my self imposed suffering.
You bring no good to me,
trap me in the light of the child I used to be,
and your name haunted my lips like the last time you
kissed
me
but none of this would ease how I wanted you to hurt me.
Prove you cared with your actions.
Your words are white noise.
I need to focus on the swollen melody my heart is performing.
But how do I find closure,
To what will always feel

What price do we place on freedom
in a world of consumer slaves?
Do we measure it in the lives
of soldiers sent to their graves?

Do we measure it in the families
who lost dads, husbands, sons;
and trust the politicians
whose solution is always guns?

Do we measure it in the comfort
of never knowing first hand
the way that a child feels
growing up in a war-torn land?

What is the cost? What will it take
for us to wake and see:
if this were the path to freedom
wouldn't everyone be free?

If hate will only breed more hate
and if war only breeds more war,
it ultimately begs the question:
is "peace" worth fighting for?

There will be a time when you need me,
But I'll already be gone.

Flesh may be a measure of mortality,
However these words cut deep.

They carve themselves into infinity,
Scribing the rise, ****** and fall.

Each piece is a violent declaration,
Against the tides of hate.

While I could not wade in the water,
The storm of truth rains down.

Falling victim to fate and telling times,
All exits are crafted by these hands.

Glancing again, what happened?
Why did they die?
Have they seen us, the poeple?
For whom they fought bravely
Holding hope, the only weapon
The only inspiration, dragged out

Then go through every aspects
Slavery, prison, torture, death
Or more, living worse than death

You can see how it turned well?
And still ruining the whole respect
Hell, we brought the laws, divided
Race, cast, religion, gender, wealth
Can you think about anything else
Done with it, where they left, we start

When nature kicks back
With all she got, you'd claim
All these years, we fought
All those dangers, we faced
The global warming, we survived
The generations, we tamed
The holocausts, we blamed, eachother

Never meant to go this far
An addiction to another war
Suppressed who raised voices
To lighting up bossy cigars

The conflicts that carried souls
Millions I couldn't count, still rolls
Living this life like it might end
Tomorrow or the moment's close

It's when she hit back with hatred
Everything we found, and created
To loose focus on peace and equality
We'll spill more blood, as awaited?

From holy flame thy frame was wrought
Through war cry praise thy name was brought
By scholars taught and by fighters cheered
In wooden gaze thy soul revered
Thus beneath the blaze thy name was seared

Of soil born
By sweet land nourished
In corpse cremation
Thy strength hath flourished

Volcanic is thy raging force
Titanic is thy fullest span
Crash forth through giant’s iron cage
Gorge on the feeble corpse of man

At silent light of quiet dawn
Near lake of waters chilled
The wine is slowly poured
The eight skulls are filled

With violent blast of hunter’s horn
Thy food shall be roped and bound
Thy chosen daughter shall raise an ax
Inflict the righteous glorious pain

Once thy food is severed
Thy blessing shall flow fast from its chunks
Thy daughter shall drink it quick  
She shall not spill a single drop

The wine of the eight skulls shall sweeten
With presence of thy oaken scent
Divine wrath shall envelop all
After thy jaws are fully fed

If you scream no one will hear you
If you scream I will **** you
Little  girl  of  seven
How ‘bout you bring me to heaven?

I’ll take you on a trip
You’ll feel your insides rip

It’s ten past noon
The beginning of June
She screamed anyway
In the middle of the day

Ten minutes before,
She knocked on her door
Nobody is home
She’s all alone

So she skipped to the park
Past trees of paper-white bark
To swing on the swings
Such a thoughtless innocent thing

He was looming there
She didn’t really care
Friendly he did seem
And tried to push her on the swing

Alarmed, she struggled to get down
He shoved her to the ground
The smell of cigarettes
The sound of deep heavy breaths

Deflowered was the maiden(head)
Defiled was the child
So loudly she had screamed
From the object he had reamed

Rough and rigid was the shaft
A sharp pain and the smell of blood
Briefly she blacked out from the traumatic flood

The monster bolted from the sound of her cries
What had he done? She understood.
Showed her womanhood

The smell of cigarettes
The beginning of regrets
The sting of his sixty second fling
Although he was gone
His stench lingered on

So once more, she ran to her apartment door
No  one was there to comfort her despair
On her porch she sat
Numb and waiting

Mom comes home and asks what’s wrong
Why did she take so long?
A police report was made
The girl’s memory begins to fade (shove it down, make it drown)

Ten past noon
That day in June
A sunny day in the park
Where her life went dark