When I was a kid,
folding chairs
were my kryptonite.

I seem to have forgotten,
this is the
Pennywise bathroom.

Decrypted Version:


We both knew what we did to each other was out of revenge

You're in the next city over, and she is here, making me feel again

Staying up in an Adderall talking fervor, and the passionate love we made the second night

and there was Mike, singer of that band named after the local graveyard, passing out expensive beers

I never want to call you, oh center of my universe

But every day, before you left for school, I would, ridden with guilt

I never wanted to leave my room again. Alone I stayed in fear.

-

Every time you left for vacation, I felt like I would *****

A paradise on the beach along the Carolina shore

You said you wanted to be single and free

Your March birthday rolled around, I was gone, and you were just alone

You left the girl I love at that beach with the charming fellas

You brought back something far worse, and numb

-

You've found a new love, and I've seen how he tries to out do what I did

The words and promises of us that you drew all over your walls now painted over

Now that you and your family have left that place

Megan wrote on your ceiling the night we all stayed together. It made you laugh

I'm in your backyard, wishing I could look back and in.

-

The new love in your life has become a perfect copy of me. You sculpted him that way

You know longer feel weak when an insult comes rushing to you

I really did make you tough and numb

Because no one could say anything more vile than I did

-

I guess this really is the end for us

We'll never see that spark we had reunite

I can't replace you, I don't want to replace you

-

Were the three years we spent together a waste?

I'm descending into another deep hole

-

I'll never come out again.




Original Version (Which is still available on my page):


An eye for an eye was the reason we acted

You’re so far away and I can’t stop the fireworks

Talking the night away, the exhausted second meeting

A sip of ale from the singer in the graveyard

I never wanted to call to the Sun

But every morning I would cave in

I buried myself in an empty room

-

The trips were acidic to my tongue

Beaches filled with trinkets and sands

“Fish swim, forever free” you tell yourself

Now, Pisces, who is the one swimming?

Buried in the sands is what I remember

The other half is lost

-

Am I the one to defeat now?

The words that stained the walls are now sparkling white

Abandoned

“Now close you eyes and sleep” she wrote

I’m somewhere between the ponds and the highway

-        

The mimics and shadows match suit and play their roles

The words do no sting or stick

Tough as leather, from the arrows

That flowed from me like a river

-

This product is finished

Ignition improbable, idiot.

No courage and hardly a motive

-

Triplet years

Falling backwards

-

My head is buried

My uncle slit a man's throat with a box cutter in my childhood home and didn't apologize.
Sitting in a circle filled with crack smoke and stale beer breath.
This is a shining example of what I've lived with
and the lengths I've had to go to escape the thing people call "destiny".

Thievery, lies, pressure, and violence
has been calling my name for the longest.
But I know the voice too well to be taunted.  

Words are my freedom and words are my piece of mind.
There is not a single substitute.
Whether poem, prose, or paragraph,
This is the only calling I've ever had.

I've lived with a hoarder, addicts, senility, and ignorance
in a variety of different combinations and forms.
At times, power, water, freedom, money, necessities, have all been an unachievable thing to me.
Lost to the vile goals of those folk I love.
I am the only one who sees the beauty in the fragile and odd.
The others see only a mess on a paper, and move their eyes to the nearest glowing box.

My father drowned when I was six.
My grandfather followed soon after.
My mother felt the stab of this and caved so many times.
I witnessed and shared the burden of her pain and grief.
My grandmother forgot everything she ever loved or knew, and short after passed as well.
Pets and possessions,
friends and followers.
All gone with a drastic breeze.
I am the one with the vision, but I am trapped in a shell of a city,
covered with that wretched stink of refined soy.

Will I be able to unburden the world from myself?
You all give me such great courage and allow me to share the beauty as I see it.
You all have such great skill with symbols and it makes me feel like home isn't far.
I want this. I want this.

If I keep breathing like the rest of the world
I feel I may miss the sound of the world's heartbeat.
But my death would not bring a solution for the ones I love.
Only a warrant for more death.
I need this. I need this.

With my words, I conjure up hell.
And hell brings with it the familiar.
Run little kitties, run.
The Doubling House and The Sequential Church will not hold forever.
My havens are temporary, but the craters are forever.
I will struggle till the pain becomes all I am
and I buckle under the weight of what I shouldn't have taken
from the mighty Atlas.

I do this for me.
I do this for you.

Even the idea was worthy of a fight
and all too much preparation.
We dolled ourselves up for alienation,
even though the faces present
were so familiar and etched into memory.

Who are you Mr.Cool?
If that is your real name.
Whiskey breath and filterless smokes
only impresses the girls in the movies,
with scripts written by clueless men
like you, who can't supply injury
so they bring only insult.

You are a secretary bird,
a mime, and the copycat kid.
Trying to be a bad boy and hide
amongst the spoiled brats you claim.

Keep on burrowing and severing ties,
ravishing resources leads to ruin.

You say you've heard rumors?
Well, I've heard facts.
I've seen facts!

Your parasitic disguise will crumble
under the weight of your genuinely selfish persona.
While the company I keep will only know
the side you wished to reveal
in front of all the pretty boys and girls.

You are the shelter, my egg.
A half-reflection of my time here.
I write with your hands,
I see through your eyes -
Green as the street where we spent
the two decades that meant the most.

So hip that you dissolved one of yours.
Always bringing the truth to the surface.
Not a law, a threat, or problem to stop you.
Defined by a friendly face and welcoming tone.
Refined by a southern hand and an era of sinners.
A mother to us all.

These words are all I have to give;
You taught me every last one.
Letters arranged to define the world.
Even though you know my intentions,
Remember, I do this because you let me be me.

You deserve enlightenment and laughter
Forever and again.

Obsidian-eater tells no fables,
Cloud-breather tells no facts,
and upon the Shady Mountain
you must memorize your tracks.
Safe shelter will elude you here.
Your mind will not know rest,
and every thought you held so dear
will be challenged with this test.

Rise up to the jagged summit
to view the landscape covered in tar.
The countryside has been corrupted
from sailing too close to the vile Null-Star.
Now sits a lake of umbral murk
where once were valleys ****** to vex.
This is truly the contrast of beauty;
Memories of life left only as specks.

Below the surface, in deep slumber,
the planet's heart beats in the core.
It knows not of your hardships,
just what it has in store.
A planetary cleansing
to wash away this putrid sin,
and upon this Shady Mountain
is where it will begin.