It was clear to me then, but it escapes me now. Infinity was condensed to a single moment, I don't know how I knew that, but I did.
I saw standing before me, a tomato, a swine and a human. They stood side by side. Their physical bodies were dissimilar, but their souls were all the same.

By cutting the tomato you cut yourself, and by killing the swine you **** yourself. They all may not look the same, but what they feel is the same. You are the tomato, you are the swine, and they are you too.

To you this is ******, but to me this is life.
Life has got to eat life, It is how we survive.
Life has got to eat life, It is how we stay alive.

Life to you rings a different tone. You claim that life is more than food, that to feed is to ******, but no one says a snake is a murderer when it kills a mouse.
You say no one needs to die in order for others to live. But death comes one way or another.

You say:
"Stop mashing that potato,
Stop cutting that tomoto,
Stop pealing those carrots,
Stop grating those onions.
Just because you can't hear them, does not mean they don't scream;
And just because they aren't people, doesn't mean they can't feel."

How you see the world is the only way to see it? But I saw infinity in the fraction of a second, yet it was an eternity. I saw that what we see, is what we want to see. And that what really is, is what we make it out to be.



I was laying in the dirt, then the dirt became me. I then fed a flower, then I became the flower. A doe ate the flower, then I became the doe. A wolf consumed the doe, then I became the wolf. A man skinned the wolf, then I became the man. The man lay in the dirt, then I became the dirt again.

Life bleeds into new life, It is how we stay alive.
Life bleeds into new life, It is how we survive.

She's ugly but I want her.
The truth is , we all know a gal like that.
And the truth is a lot like that gal.

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.