You gave me a bandage
A horrific bright pink,
For you noticed a stripe
Of red bleeding through
My long sleeved shirt.

I laughed it off and rolled my eyes
"My demon cat struck again"
And you laughed with me,
But you wont ever know
I never had a cat.

-ARI

there's not a place like this around
where i don't want myself around
dirt, hair, and soot inside the air purifier
so many orange and white bottles on the ground

dollars, masking tape, and cologne
Dior, Hermes, and Altoids upon Altoids tins
cigarettes and hand-rolled goods,
Vice magazines and fashion too

The things I keep in my bed are worse off
Than halves of horses heads that
Even Hollywood couldn't direct.
Until I set fire to the oil paintings and the books

At morning I'll count my rock collection of ****** conquests
And bury them like dead birds in shallow graves in the neighbor's yard

We sang of Sublime,
there was this dude -
and he was a rhymin'.

His name was Wild,
Bill, always went for the ****.
But- not until...

My metallic fragrance
dresses the snare,
as I danced like I didn't care.

Oh, my heart did break at times.
Hell, It was the biggest crime.
I might just wait in line.

And in the end,
I'm loved, confused with friends
My heart I'll send.

Words are the seeds of rebellion
A simple sentence may imprint a design of unrest
On the minds of the oppressed
And when watered by the unending tears
Of the motherless child
Of the widow or widower
These seeds spring eternal as weeds in the gardens of the oppressors
How quickly these starving plants grow
In the perceived beauty of the truly demented souls
Of those who used the corpses of the tormented as the topsoil
For their design of a utopia
The weeds of unrest will rise in the minds of those who have lost all
In a sacrifice for the comfort of those who walk above them
They will choke the oxygen
From the society
Who survives off of them
Those who carry the world on their backs
Words are the seeds of rebellion
And they are those who will stand
When these perverted gardens fall around them