Not to many have resisted the risk
Hold tightly and lose control through the same clenched fist
Pray for there to be but dread that last kiss
How many have been hurt who weren't on a list
Who gets hit with every miss
Can't run from this
I must confess,
Take a minute here to be honest
I don't know if I can say it's worth the risk

©2023

There's all this talk around me about some profound we that's never found me
They taking a collective we?
One agreed on collectively but conveniently and continuously minus me
Is it the me, myself and I type we? Cause defining a trinity might not unveil anything holy
Or could they be referring to the we that turns to just me when things get a little bit heavy?
That kind of we?
Maybe they mean the we I'm supposed to automatically call family
Even though history will show them as a two faced enemy
Both ones I've picked or have befriended me, eventually it's contempathy from a frienemy
An uninterested we that hardly reciprocates the love that's expected to freely flow from me blindly
What baffles me still is this bloodline we that aren't even aware of me
Or they are aware just unwilling to add me to their we
Coldly my psyche reminds me, "you're nobody's somebody buddy, sorry."
Personally, I say let 'em swing from their positions above and beside me on the family tree
Unfortunately they will always be a part of the conversation when discussing this we
The good, the bad and the ugly represented by said we but projected on me
Now listen closely, I claim to have came to this conclusion organically

There is no we, only me

Nonsense spewed when angry but the me I try to hide visually, the one projecting he doesn't need a we
Cries out for somebody when times get lonely, lies and said I'm my only company
Cause I can not see the we that is meant to be, the we I thought was only a dream of a faded childhood memory
It's not only right in front of me but all around me and already a part of me
I had no idea this door even had a handle for entry with a keyhole much less a key
Apparently it was the skeleton type and had to be pulled out of me
Reality blends with fantasy in the best way, what else is there to say? I've found my we and another reason to be happy

©2023

Only God can help you now and and I don't see him here, do you?
I asked you a question motha plucker!! DO! YOU! SEE HIM?! He's certainly nowhere in my view
What's he gonna do, bust in her on some kind of divine rescue?
Kick the door off the hinges and run through, swoop you up and save you?
As a grown asss man how does that idea not perplex you?
If he exists he's forgotten all about you, he's forsaken all but a few
And the slough of sins you've happened to accrue became an issue
He's turned a deaf ear to every sincere word you've ever cried into that pew
Oh but you've never been alone, the devils there for us all
To answer the desperate call for help when our life's in a free fall
When we pledge to give anything for that one thing we believe to be a cure-all
Turn to an inadamint object for a sec for a possible answer to it all
"Oh magic eight ball...is there even any hope for me at all?"
"Not a chance" reads on the small dice, that's when you offer up your small life
Hand over your soul and heart packaged nice in a Ziploc bag full of ice
And at that percice moment he hands over your dreams but at a price
As eventually the good days splice off giving way, showing your sacrifice
A new nightmare trasnforms from your paradise, what once was used to entice
Turns to a vice that's twice as powerful when used as an evil device
And of course, by then, it's far to late to stop this from happenin'
The Lord's furry captured by a heathen stolen through the Golden gate, taken from heaven
Good heavens, where's Chris Evens? We need the captain
But a heros shield held by a broken zero is a domed zeppelin
Soooooo...I win, dark beats light again
I've racked up so many that we should change that old time sayin'
The one about how light always trumps dark cause I leave no question
Leave no doubt in anybody's mind that good doesn't always come out the champion
If you've ever watched any wrestlin' you've seen that the heel or the villian
Gets his hand raised often, over and over again and god willin'
I'll can keep continuin' this stylin', profilin', limousine ridin', jet flyin', kiss-stealin', wheelin' n' dealin' with a little added blood spillin' till my will 'n passion come unfastened or to an abrupt end
That's your only hope so I hope it doesn't ever happen

©2023

What. Just. Happened?
I'm still here, in the throes of terror, probably forever, but that was close
I don't know how many more of those devastating blows from life's twisted episodes I can take before I get exposed and everybody knows that this smile's a fake, adorned like over warn costumes on Broadway shows
A mangled backdrop set prop to keep from view that I got behind the scenes woes
With each smile the lie grows
Gotta live with this Pinocchio nose
Black out curtains dress the windows so the only parts of me I expose are silhouette shadows
Like house siding, I stack the facade till a barrier grows
It adds curb appeal and social value I suppose
But for me it's a false face to hide the lows
Getting me through this reality that blows
A life time of running into doors with a sign reading "sorry we're closed"
Hanging next to the mandatory posted notice of demolition proposed
Life's ultimate plan to bulldoze any happy settlement till all that's left are foreclosed burrows
Unwelcoming ghettoes
A real to life Gotham City narrows
Every one knows **** flows down stream and my life's the delta where it all goes
Rainbows triggering everyday psychos
Sorrows flicker by like sickening slideshows
Arms and legs strewn all around, some separated from torsos
From heros to zeros, no back again as I decompose into the shallows

It's basically not a place anybody would actually choose to be
But when it's your own psyche it's hard to see any way out of the intensity that will always accompany insanity
And no one can hear your inner voice plea for much needed mercy
Beging to be set free but this inescapable captivity is your eternity
So wait, is this outcome then a certainty?
A destiny unremarkably average and already planned out for me?
It certainly seems to be
Especially now that I see clearly that comedy lies within my tragedy
But only because hindsight is 20/20
In the moment nothing's funny
A well lit path is not part of my journey
Mines a lifetime walked through a dark ally
The thoughts that emerge from the shadows come in a hurry, a savage flurry of the eire
Physically consumed with how badly this could turn out for me
Any second I could come face to face with an enemy sent by a deity with the soul purpose to immediately end this agony but I can guarantee I'm not that lucky

It's a shame this evil never left after it came
The residual, dry back shot residue stain and remain after every time I'm ******, but those rinse off in the rain that came all the same
Causing me to claim I'll never see life the same
Now docile and tame, a king slain by his own sword, self inflicted pain
My shelf life would be considered inhumane
A body originally set to be a temple now unlivable domain
Why is it the opposite I hear 'em saying when it comes to the brain of the insane?
What I can't figure out is what's there to gain keeping me here on this plane?
An existence broken and lame, no highs, no fame
No title bout, no championship game
I'd like to say it's done in vain but the fact is maybe this is where I'VE chosen to remain
But if there is no one to blame, to frame, to claim did this to me then the chain that holds me here I should be able to explain away so I don't know how to explain why I stay

And I always find myself stubbornly staying in this mindset like I'm developing the onset of stalk home syndrome
Eventually the environment seems normal but it's a Truman show dome
Entertainment at the expense of a grown man condoned
And the freedom shown is an illusion cause there's only so far you are able to rome
It never occurred to me that it was strange to be in this place alone
At first, while trying to escape, I wore my finger tips to the bone
But now I've got it so bad that I call this catacomb home
No land line phone, no WiFi hotspot zone
Cut off from the outside inside this prison of skull and bone
It's getting harder to tell as the problems begin to become overgrown
My flaws are blown out of proportion as they engulf my preset headstone
It seems so obvious that I shouldn't be here, I deserve a permanent place in a corner alone with a dunce cap cone or next to the rest labeled drone.
And I'm pretty sure I've waited to long to atone so the best I can hope for now are some ruby slippers or the larger piece of the wishbone

©2018

A new found enjoyment, not heaven sent
Still drawn to it like a moth to a flame

Don't share in my regret, promise to stay distant
I couldn't bare to see you in this much pain

Find me ambivalent to some extent
To take another step if it's in vain

Notice I'm hesitant to place a bet
L's stack shame on top of shame atop my name

Life itself's a debt, lest we forget
The plot and grave are one in the same

A dark passenger resident denise me residence
How did I lose access to my own brain

To myself I'm a threat, morality bent
Just so I'm not always going against the grain

Don't care 'bout bein' relevant, never permanent
But pain finds a way to remain

No clue what it meant is a poor argument
Would rather not waste time trying to explain

One day you might get it, wouldn't count on it
Strange to be your very own ball and chain

Go 'head and attempt it, see no safety net
You WILL become one with the terrain

Flesh and bone, neck and neck racing to pavement
Then witness the insane riddled membrane

Always defiant, against my better judgement
Probably should have stayed in my own lane

No deterrent to embracing my inner deviant
A full embrace of the profane

Won't seek atonement, least not at the moment
I only wish the only option was to remain

There's a death certificate, a signed suicide document
The growing black mark on my heart is more than a stain

So here I sit, trying to make sense of it
Unknown, alone and forgotten out in the rain

Selfimprisonment, a life sentence recipient
The issues with my DNA, infecting every strain

©2023

Enjoy the mocking tick after tock from the clock as the hands race monotony just to land on a preoccupied spot, no over shot
Reality not taught, reason is a subplot, lost in translation was the caveat, what's the grand plan for this life span time forgot
Avoiding deaths cousin, the sandman, only shortened the journey to the grand finale at the bottom of a grave plot, a hateful fate fought
Thought I ought not move to avoid falling through the bottom of all rock bottoms due to the dry rot, a quicksand sandbox in back of Salems lot
Rescue or recovery a long shot, no one within earshot but there's an onslaught of inner dialogue piercing the void like the scream of a red hot teapot
As is common with the distraught I sought help from the cold embrace of a slipknot that grew taut through the progression of this thrown together plot of a should've been cancelled pilot
Don't ask me what I see in this blind study of an inkblot, any sanity you got would crumble if caught up in the web of nightmare fuel my own mind went ahead and brought
Forced to boycott my being, can't connect good story lines, lost a dot, popped a squat in a thousand watt recliner like a pre-programmed self destruct robot
Self-preservation an afterthought, miles out to sea before I realized I've not yet bought a yacht, treading water in a tough spot
Messed around and got so high I got caught in the sky like a drifting astronaut lost in space, tethered to a dead cosmonaut
A crackpot juggernaut of supreme disappointment, walk the walk and take a potshot at a what not to do mascot
Cross my i's and dot t's with the underutilized comic sans faunt that don't nobody want, awoken by the taunt of a witching hour haunt
"Fuuck the record and fuuck the people!" like you heard from Snot, you'll probably be hearing it from me a lot
Before I become a forget-me-not long forgot but go or stay, either way, still dangerous as a traveling blood clot
The good fight was not fought, this life was not sought, everyone seems to have it together, I'm the biggest have not on the block
Do with that what you will, I'm going on a long walk down a short dock with a giant rock in each sock
Then the plan is to mock god to his face and see the shock on his face as I say I could do better and see if I get the morning stars spot

I mean, why not? It's worth a shot

©2023

It's far easier to hate than forgive, can't give myself a break when the case study's retrospective
I hate that it's easier to die than to live, pull up just shy and see it all fall in and out of perspective
To be here, right here, year after year is the objective but the inner chatter from my dark passenger is persuasive
Life escapes through each back stab wound like a fleshy sieve, how much can one individual give
Just meaningless crumbs aren't attractive, I'm a no good, very bad human representative
So primitive, the smooth brain collective not selective enough to be proactive instead of reactive
The crazies run the nut house and the clubs exclusive, drunk off two fifths, the front doors elusive
I'm no detective, I just hope my karma is something I can outlive

Dark thoughts are combative, my own mind is abusive, held captive with no clear motive
The rush from anger becomes addictive even when self destructive
The me I want to be has lost all adhesive and every step towards a concept that moves forward feels counterproductive
From my perspective I should embrace the paradox, go back in time and hand my mom a contraceptive
I'd rather not exist than to be a relative to this bloodline that feels radioactive
But what's the alternative, trading one mess for another is gonna get repetitive
And every time, the byproduct gets more carossive, the rust forms a husk that falls away exposing the explosive
One that goes off erratically 'cause real change isn't a newspaper, or soothsayer, real help is expensive

Hand me that sedative, this repetitive narrative is too intensive, Lucifer's obsessive and I, compulsive
Destructive to a fault and so one sided I'm not even competitive
A cognitive function nowhere near adaptive, straight to punishment, bypassing corrective
Leaving me to always be on the defensive but that alone will fail to be effective
At least for the collection of the negative that is a bigger percentage of the me that's reflective
One of a fugitive on the run from my formative years, all the hardwired fears still active
Each with a different authoritative directive and all for the worse, who the hell's even driving this locomotive?
My words sound figurative, at least enough to label it an overactive imagination, so creative
But it's imperative that this is looked at as informative, a documentary type narrative

CAUSE I SWEAR IT IS

©2023

A life time lost, mindlessly searchin', wanderin' aimlessly in the margin
Lingerin' in the gray, outside yet somehow dead center of socially accepted norms and action
Starved of affection, but by design, never forget to mention it feels safer with zero human interaction
Parched, withering away, no reaction, no peace, only life but just a fraction

A scorched Earth, a nightmarish vision, a dream state of my demons risen
No rhyme, no reason, no time to be forgiven, is it a sin if the motive is kept hidden?
Does one exist if forgotten? No answer if you can't remember the question
Hence then, to stay afloat one must stop the spin of the downward spiral one finds oneself in

Listen, or don't, it won't matter in the end, frightened without the knowledge of when
A last breath taken after finally on the mend, would it be different if hope wasn't given?
A permanent decision, forever finally allowed to begin but could it be considered a win?
It's all about perception, a frown flipped upside down is a grin

Eyes wide shut, lie and try to pretend they're open, heart closed off, can't repair what's been broken
A conversation with a villan disguised by the voice of a friend, a danger unspoken
Another bad omen, no one around, both voices coming from a location deep within
What's been awoken has stolen emotion and allowed the erosion to begin

...and here...we go...again...

©2023

(song)

Talk to me, trust me to listen
Allow me see what everyone else has been missin'
Feel free to be exactly the person you are
Call out to me knowing I'll never be too far
I know you've been hurt, I know I've played a part
Allow me the chance to unbreak your broken heart
I understand your stance on never again
I just want to see that smile returned to my best friend

Tell me,
What makes you happy and
Tell me,
What makes you sad
Tell me your best day and every one that's turned out bad
Tell me,
What makes you laugh and
Tell me,
What makes you mad
Tell me your nightmares and every dream you've ever had

Step to the side and I'll respect the space
Turn to me when in need of a warm embrace
When you have something to say I'll be a captivated audience
When you can't find the words, we can sit here in silence
If you want to fly I'll help mold your wings
Let us set sail to find what tomorrow brings
The future is unknown, let's write out own ending
You could do it alone, I know, so know it's a desire to be accompanying

Tell me,
What makes you happy and
Tell me,
What makes you sad
Tell me your best day and every one that's turned out bad
Tell me,
What makes you laugh and
Tell me,
What makes you mad
Tell me your nightmares and every dream you've ever had

We aren't perfect, never strive too
Two broken people applying our own glue
We want but we don't need
Together, never been more free
Making this breed of love we feeeeeeeel more than real

Tell me,
What makes you happy and
Tell me,
What makes you sad
Tell me your best day and every one that's turned out bad
Tell me,
What makes you laugh and
Tell me,
What makes you mad
Tell me your nightmares and every dream you've ever had


(Possible bridge or outro)

...makes you happy...makes you sad
...your best day... rescript the bad
... your laughter...so cute when mad
...together in all the dreams being had

©2023

'Practice makes perfect' is a Damoclesian carrot fastened with erudite string.

•
Its bite mentally drops.
•

Practice is the whetstone of preparation.

&

Perfecting, the work of The Spirit.



© Qwey.ku 2023