My ears are stopped with tapers, so I'll hear no more
of this ****** farce you and he have going.
Every time you ask for more
abuse, I realize I'm better off not knowing.
But my playlist is full of sadness,
and the rest is a bore.
So your screams are my melody
and I'll listen as your blood keeps on flowing.

They say fools rush in, and more the fool you.
More the fool me too, to listen to
your pained cries for more pain,
as your skin is red glowing,
The bruise slowly growing,
as you exult in the sick high you get from his backhand;
as I listen to Red Jumpsuit Apparatus ask him
if he feels like a man.

There's no pain more complete tonight
Than the ringing in my tear soaked budded ears
when he says "**** my ****, *****"
with those lips so sweet... "and tight."
And you oblige, because you're too used to it to fear,
and it makes you feel beautiful,
because only angels weep, right?

That's the sad lesson heard here.
I bid my sad playlist goodnight.

eyelids coated in glitter
       you dont see the world like we do
upper lip, flowers sprouting
       to cover the rot
earbuds playing melodies in the key of C
       playlist of wonder

i see why you do the things you do
cover the stained bedsheets with cotton blankets
remain

Stand there and watch
Just do.
Stand and watch me
Break down
Watch me scream and shout
And not hear a thing

Stand and watch me
Claw at my skin till it gets red
Like a crazed being
Trying to find some solace

Stand and watch me
Run around in circles
Same path over and over again
Trying to make sense

Stand and watch me
Cry, like I never have
With tears of blood
Rolling down my eyes

Stand and watch me
Become a shell of myself
Someone I vowed I wouldn't be
Someone who I've come to despise

Stand and watch me
Destroy. Destruct. Anhiliate.
Myself

Just stand and watch.

Even evil watches us and                                                                                          It stares at us just to prey                                                                                             On innocent people here                                                                                                And there and everywhere ...                                                                                        Evil's ugly eyes stay up all                                                                                          Nights' long and all days'                                                                                            Long just to prey on all of us ...                                                                                   That ugly evil creeps like                                                                                              An ugly snake just to prey                                                                                           On pretty souls everywhere ...                                                                                   That's the way with evil's eyes ...

A boy with no parents bought up hated and alone,
wanted attention and was always on his own.
a Beast inside made the villagers afraid,
for this reason.. they all displayed,
an attitude of hate,
which they made bait.
lonely and behind,
was also kind.
Year's went passed,
time really went fast,
a team of 3,
he was happy.
He vowed one day,
he'd be the village hokage.
He Trained and trained,
felt drained and pained.

"I once thought I had mono for an entire year. It turned out I was just really bored."--Wayne Campbell, *Wayne's World

Pass this
        night un-
*******
                                            wingnuts­.
Opened
        casing
showing
                                 ­            my guts.

Fragmented seconds ticking, slipping
through the widening span
                                     of these small hands.
I've unlocked                         my innards
and the truth is out: it's mostly rusting gears.
I've wound down.                 I've ground up
days and weeks, upended months,
spilled crumbs
                         of my years
on pages, aging fast.
The faces show it's late,
                                        so late.

Time's up.
          Trickling
out of
                                        habits
Gutter
        ­   nights are
washing
                                         ashes
Into
                 Yawning
                                              Faces
fille­d up
                  with questions
                                              falling
f­rom the corners of
their weary, sunburnt eyes.

I'll tick off one more weekend, crossing
panels off a page.
                               Discard a month.
They've opened                    the archives
and the story's old, the golden paper cracks.
The faces,                               blank pages,
rifle past through volumes' deaf--
--'ning greys.
                        Intentions
forgotten, filtered through
the seasons' blurring hum.

                                              It's so late.

The strange child watches me
copies every step
when I move
he also does
and when I die
he falls.

I've taken special precaution to protect myself.
Meaning, I don't give my email to people I do not know.
My phone number is clutched to my chest.
Even my real name is never disclosed.

I live by pseudonym.
Pandarra,
Pandakin
or simply just Panda.
And'
If that's not to your liking.
Try;
Vearena,
Vearona
or even Vea.
I have lots of names,
all of them a mouthful
as they roll off your tongue.

I live with precautions,
to keep people at bay.
Too many idiots and pervert
now-a-days.
But that's not the worst,
heathens and **** dwell
as well.
People who are working the angles
to make a quick buck or two
off the naive and the unknowing.

So learn from me well;
live with precautions.
Keep people at arms length,
because then, and only then,
can they not
sink their teeth in.