Saw them holding hands the other day,
So, I tried to stay away,
If I got close they would see my sadness,
But last week she was on my mattress,
This is why I'm so confused,
Either way she is amused,
She's between my sheets,
Then he's between her legs,
Anger continues to increase,
So, stay out of my bed,
Or don't do what I say,
Just keep clinging to him when he's around,
Then cling to me,
When I'm the only one inbound,
Don't stop the fake love you're spilling out,
If you don't want to,
You'll break more men, the dishonest and devout,
But don't be surprised if out the blue,
Some man breaks your heart and cheats on you,
It'll be something that you can't construe,
But if you come back to me I'll say, "Who knew? ",
Do what you must, and I'll go along with it,
Drink your alcohol and give your **** another hit,
I'm trying not to care,
Trying to take my feelings and smother it,
But now I'm done,
Although I could go on forever,
Once the ramblings begun,
I couldn't be more clever,
How do I end this,
Obviously not with a kiss,
Or an I miss,
Although I really do,
And I'm feeling blue,
I guess this is my cue,
I'm out...

there is no guarantee
that we will ever be free
I can't tell you why
the rain pours
and the people mourn
there is no guarantee
that we will ever find peace
I can't tell you why
we go to war
and why he called you a *****
there is no guarantee
that we will ever be happy
I can't tell you why
half of us are on anti-depressants
and why we are fighting the resistance
I can't tell you why
there is no guarantee

Crumble
brothels sprout
flesh peddlers collect their fees
selling daughters
in twos and threes
Lopez or Diaz
lazy or defiant
escaped
in polluted lagoons
the virus spreads

Dancing with the dead
priests absolve the devils
in their mist
Pilar sold her virginity
for a few bars of gold
wrapped in an old ladies hatred
she murdered her vows

Mexico is a land of smiles
the knife only glints
in the Aztec sun
as they bury you
after eating your heart

No one ever knew
What it was like to be a ****
They never felt the unnerving sensation
Of the lingering touches and kisses
No one knew
How one's skin stings
From trying to scrub away
How ***** and disgusting they feel
They don't know
How it crushes a *****'s heart
To be used but not remembered
How it's hard to find company
Who sees you for who you are
And not for your body
They don't know
How it's hard to live
Upto the society's restrictions
They judged but they were not aware
Of how this bítch was molded
They don't know
But still they criticized
They don't see
The gaping hole left
Within this ****'s personality
They don't feel the pang of rejection
The pain of neglection
The sting of false accusations
They never listened
Their criticism never faltered
No one thought about the bìtch
No one cares for the whôre
What matters was that she destroys
And then get destroyed by her protagonist
They want a fairytale
And there's gotta be a villain.

Nothing feels so empty as easy satisfaction
that requires little effort or sacrifice.
As filthy Johns in search of ******,
we salivate over and consume
the blood and the passion
of the artists who offer their beauty
in the hopes of small rewards.
In a gluttonous feast, we take
what we want, and without
offering one cup of coffee
or even a slice of bread.

-Ron Gavalik

I want to write
But I don't know about what
Something about how they call me a ****
They think I sleep around and round
But my lifestyle isn't that profound
Is it right to shame me?
For exploring my sexuality?
I would say,
no
but they don't tend to hear that word