You're a dumb dude
Secretly filming the ****
You do shady *** **** and write poems about it
35 and writing like your 15
With poems like yours it's not hard to be mean 
Your just a man out of his prime bent on the obsene
The cops coming to your house clearly didn't freak you out
So maybe I'll tell your mom what your all about.

You **** and I hate everything about you. Stop writing poems about me.

I remember
In a past life
That we were lovers
Your were a Lama
And I was a young woman
We had a happy
Yet forbidden life.  
When you died you were
Reborn
In this life
Every Halloween
I looked for you
And you visited
My dreams.
I thought we would be in bliss
Then you turned
On me.
I have to be aware of my safety
And the safety
Of my people
It was never meant to be.

How can I possibly raise a baby of my own when I can barely raise myself?

My mother she was one with palms pressed
                                                Asking for help..
Help to feed us,
Help to keep her afloat.

You listened, wait what was that?
                                     you didn't...
Na you played her, used her trust
in you like a torment, she looked to
the heavens and all you gave was hell..

Men were  less than what she saw,
but always too late.
            Married in your place
                                         of every prayer.
But you just kept knocking her down there.

Last time I went to church was
                    because there was free chocolate.
You see with me, my mother grasped  at
straws. She went from one form of you
to another like a ****** clinging to a new fix.

But you were just like before, same old ****,
                 different day...
I knew long before you weren't one to be trusted?
Why you ask? Because there where ones before you..
                      I read your book in the fantasy section.
This thing needed a
                    
                           Parental Guidance Sticker.

Some contorted morals, thrown in with what
                  can be only described as a  WFT's.
I knew that those at these places of worship
                   peddling there own version of this god..
Didn't believe there own words, so why the hell
would I be gullible enough to be a sheep in there world.

The last time I went to church,
                                         was for free chocolate.
                                    The last time she went was in a coffin..

my undesired youth has become riddled with a curiosity
that accepts a maddening desire which is irreplaceable.
I dream of nightmares that bring me pleasure.
of abuse like no other. of limitless pain.
I seek a sensation that brings chills to hell.
so allow me to learn about the terror within you.

clenched fists, teary eyes and a smooth, slender body scarred from
the truth of caressing insanity's body with regret.
a bruised heart paired with blood stained teeth and a smothering
fragrance named cigarette smoke worn by a black eyed individual.
oh how I wish I was there to see your demise.

how laughable, how have you not realised?
you're my aesthetic, darling. never will I let this beauty
become part of sweet recovery.
I'll hang your body on my white cream wall.
cherry red rope grasping your delicate neck.
handcuffs cutting your slender wrist.

I'll take your pretty thoughts from that bitter mind.
ensnarling it then taking the entirety of
your existence with my bare hands.
everyone will see you displayed but never
shall they take you from your frame.
you're my masterpiece, a creation like no other.

you ****** yourself to hell, where the divine flames of the devil
dance upon your wicked body and divulge into
the true nature of where your madness lingers.
you fell from your place with the angels
I'm here to make you burn.

i know some things that you don't
and you have some things of mine
i don't know if you remember
where we had even drawn the line

to be fair
to be sure
where do you want to be
because i'm here
and i'm sure
you want to be with me

but your terms are bent
can't even pay the rent
so i'll let you
destroy me
to be sure
to be fair

so right now i'm drawing a line
from now to next september
i'll hang on to what is left of mine
and know there are things that i won't

let go of... oh forget about it, anyway
it seems like it was yesterday
that you saw what i could hide
so you took me for a ride
and i, like a surfer to a sand dune
said okay

Okay,
It goes like this you see.

10pm, on a late thursday evening. I was sweating like a ****** in church. I grabbed my armbands and turned on the shower. It was cold as ice to the touch, but begun to warm up eventually. Thank god my wife remembered to turn the geezer on or else I was going to slap a *****, create waves of flesh on that ugly *** face of hers.


Anyway.
After stripping down to my birthday suit, I popped on some shampoo and spreaded that **** in my hair. Creating a burning sensation, tingly, like ants crawling in my head.
Suddenly I was smacked like an unwanted child by the smell of burnt toast in the air,
with the shampoo still sitting in my hair.
I turned around and right before me, something was coming out of the plug hole, like something out of a b-rated horror movie.
Looking like my wife's homemade cooking, **** was alive, and then it lunged at me.
I tell you, if it was not for those Tom Cruise movies lecturing me in the art of total *** kicking, I would be a dead naked man with armbands in a tub, being eaten by the unholy guacamole.

You gotta believe me,
when I tell this story,
This was not all in my head,
You can't just write off what I have said.
I know it must sound insane,
But a mexican's lunch crawled out of the drain,
I beat it's *** like a drum,
like Lars Ulrich at a metallica concert ,
and sent the **** back down the hole it crawled out of.
The devil wanted to bring me down to the deep end,
It is a good thing I bought my arm bands.

Can’t sleep at night,
what’s worse I’m not that alert during the day,
not sure which cam first attentiveness or the sedatives,
not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg,

which came first,
the Chicken or the Egg,
which came first,
the bliss or this pain,

whatever never mind,
who cares anyways,
because the real question is,
who cares anyways,

who cares anyways?

These days most are too inattentive to pay attention,
too unobservant to deserve my service so they’re only purpose is to be subservient,
too distracted by everything expect the instance that they’re in,
don’t even have the strength to concentrate for the length of an entire sentence,

can’t focus on this moment,
when in fact that’s all we ever have,
so really if we don’t hold the moment we hold nothing,
guess is why I only wrote this poem to remind us of that,

as I lay here in this bed,
with so many thought crowding my head,
that I have no room inside my head for Z’s,
can’t sleep I’m wide awake again,

can’t sleep at night,
what’s worse I’m not that alert during the day,
not sure which cam first attentiveness or the sedatives,
not sure which is the chicken and which is the egg…

∆ LaLux ∆

I'm not competing with you any longer.

I can't keep up with your tricks;
you lost my love like you lose your temper
Hardly at first, then rapid like wildfire.

The wild fire that I was once compared to
it now runs through your every action with them
And burns our bond to the ground, little by little.

I'm not competing with you any longer.

I can't support your insecurities any more
than you can pretend not to see mine.
My heart breaks, but you all step on the pieces.

I'm not competing with you any longer.

Stay if you want. Leave if you don't.
I won't care any more.
I've cut my heart out for you and burned it
In the fire you once compared me to
The passion that once burned in me
I'll rekindle it for someone else.

I'm done competing with you.