When the doors are
closed, what do you
know?
What can you tell me?
Is what you're going to
say, the same as what
I may say?

DO I, DO I, DO I
Have to listen to what
everyone says, at-least to
capture an idea. I've heard
of tedious reviewing, but
can it be raw. Can it dare
to be something other than
structured. Concise is one thing,
but is stress another. If I were
to free-flow like the rest
of the world, would it be bad?
You may say it's trash. But are children's books
the same to a certain degree. May it be long,
may it be short, may it be?
Why must there be an end, when your mind certainly
doesn't, or would you rather talk
of death.

Out-worldly, and an
Introverted extrovert.
male with female taste.
No more than a nail
Inching closer to
My heart, is what
It is.
Once we talk
Pain strikes my
Psyche
Voice on my
Shoulder says I
Should hurt myself.
The other talks of
Hopefuls outcomes, and
Bright futures.

The girl with the leather jacket
And the leather high-high heels
Wearing a black tube top
And skimpy shorts.
Hair; blonde, shiny wild locks
Face painted gorgeous,
Luscious red lips
Scream.
Skin sun-kissed.
Holding her flask
In the right hand
Filled to the brim
With Jack Daniel’s whiskey.
Pockets filled with cigarettes
And marijuana joints.
She takes a cigarette out,
holds it to her lips.
Leaning on a black corvette
Ignites her death.
Inhale, exhale
Bad.

Black eyes, bruised wrists, mangled genitals.
Ribcage extruding; calling for love, lust, and cigarettes
Faces offensive; unmet eyes, and searing expressions.
Scars on arms; speaking louder than quiet voices
Staring blank; at bills yet paid
Thinking there is no way
Imaging the fall from your 3rd floor
Apartment
Weighing funeral costs over living expenses
Death would put you deeper in a hole
Not able to get out, saying how
Did I get here.
Looking up seeing the opening nearly
Closed; finger lye at the only opening left.
Hope.
Being crushed brutally, whilst you see it all
happen.
Blood rains on your pale face, craving
Sunlight.
Dismemberment of fingers, brings you into total darkness.

Twirling on the neon red pole
With blue skimpy attire
Hair long with bleached lies
To hide dark brown truths
Glitter on the eye lids, flutter
for parties, and alcohol.
Smiles for nirvana
Body motions for a living,
Spinning for life
Each dance is a prayer
Multiple gods to pray to
Beer guts, perverse grins, and cigarette stained
Teeth.
Dollar bills, rain like answers
Given for hard problems to solve
In the end, work is work
Same difference?

There is a
Threat
Outside of bed.
Beyond amber red
Sunsets
People of the night
Come out.
Awaken by the smell
Of repugnant restrooms
And *****.
Last memory of
The inside of
A toilet.
Brought alive by
the frightening
sunrise.
Blinding all
who hid.