God gives me tests
By sending me pests
Without a chance to rest
Or equip a bulletproof vest

The idiots around me
Tell me I shouldn’t care
That advice I’m doubting
Because it seems unfair
I don’t want the blank stare
Those same idiots share
On this planet where
Everyone’s scared
Hiding in lairs

God sends the worst
Until I’m about to burst
Feeling cursed
In the steely hearse
Of this universe

They poke and ****
In a barrage
Saying I’m flawed
Based on their laws
Using their claws
I can’t pause
Like their applause
For a malicious cause

Their lives are purposeless
They’re obstacles to navigate
I’ve become a hurtful mess
Trapped in all their hate

They change a chipmunk
Into a nasty miffed skunk
Placed in my swim trunks
These senseless dim stunts
They actually call slam dunks
Though they’re ****** runts

I get so angry
No one can tame me
They just provide training
On aiming
At the blaming
Pests so draining

These tests I fail
Surely as Jesus’ hands were nailed
My heart goes stale
Searching for my white whale
I’m impaled
By my own harpoon
Because guards loom
With a marred broom
Sweeping dark doom
Into my heart’s tomb

Somebody call Ben Affleck
We got phantoms in this *****
This endless haunted mansion
Their presence pervades
No company
In this lonely labyrinth
Only phantoms
The only figures resembling humanity
Are the corpses of those before
Who couldn't navigate this torturous structure
And of course, the masquerading phantoms
My soul they aim to puncture

I tried closing my eyes
But I just kept running into walls
I tried sleeping through it
But I just sank deeper into the basement
When I attempted to join the phantoms
You were there
You waited until I was hanging there
On the rope
And eviscerated everything
Lycanthrope
The rope in shreds
Your heart then fled
Leaving me alone again
Lying in my exhausted blood
The phantoms sensed my desperation
And took advantage of my disorientation
So I ran to the darkest recesses of the basement
To retrieve my blindfold and sledgehammer
But is my hammer powerful enough?
Will visual impairment abstain the trickery of ghosts?

I put Sisyphus to shame
With the determination I utilize to demolish these walls
But the phantoms are devious
They ***** new facades
Thicker, sturdier, with odder textures
I destroy them all the same
It just takes a bit more time
And time means nothing
To a man who's sole purpose is knocking down walls
And cowering from apparitions
Yet a man means nothing
To a time ruled by phantoms

I was a flailing phoenix
Trapped underneath a waterfall
Unable to rise from the ashes
While being continuously extinguished
Until you constructed a dam
With the flotsam from my heart
I opened my wings and emitted light
Fearing waterfalls I took my fire flight
I was elated to have migrated
Where the weather was tropical
And the conditions seemed optimal
But your aggravating absence
Endeared an enigmatic essence
A vengeful apparition
That conjured rain
I desperately craved your protection from the elements
Until I noticed the precipitation was my infatuation
For you and the things you do
The things you build
Make rivers stay still
And the things you say
Make me regret being gay
Because you're a ******
You live in your exclusive dam
Your teeth are like cleavers
Gnawing on sacrificial lamb

Am I attractive, hot, or ****?
Or just a forlorn idiot flexing
In order to join the *** scene?

I put a towel down
And set up a picnic
My head spins round
From the dirt they kick
On my meal
To make me feel
Scared and alone
With nowhere to roam
So I stay here laying in the sun
On the other side of a Gatling gun
I searched for a savior
Who's willing to say words
To me
For free
My search was fruitless
My eyes turned youthless

I grazed in the grass
As time quickly passed
After I finished my food
And was left there to brood
I became a floating satellite
That was accustomed to night
Because of my frights
That reflected all light

Now I see ants trying to feed on my crumbs
They must think I'm pretty desperately dumb
To not know they enforced my segregation
When I had naively sought validation
I waited there silently salivating
They responded by not validating
It's for that bitter reason
During my new season
I reflect my light on the approaching ants
So I may thwart their encroaching dance
My humble heart yearns
As I watch bugs burn

They wouldn't partake in my feast
So I morphed into a brutish beast
Now they're here to eat what's left
If they can survive my dragon's breath
They put out the fire in my heart
But ignited my mind
My useless humanity parts
As I focus on time
A time that keeps passing
While signs keep flashing
As burning bugs dying
Or sad satellites flying

My life was no peaceful picnic
After they noticed my sickness
And left me alone
For that is my home

When I don't need validation anymore
I search for love
Unfortunately I know what's in store
A picnic in the mud

Pizza is my life
I started out as dough with doughy eyes
Mother picks me up
Mother molds me
After no time at all I'm sent down the line
Toppings...
Things other people want but I get
By the end the toppings are as important as the dough
Sometimes I wonder if there was any dough to begin with
Because the foundation is changed so much by the fires of the oven
The chaos makes me steam, bubble, and boil
Once I simmer down I'm recognizable as what I should be but not what I once was
Now that I'm developed it's time to be delivered into the world
And find my own home
But what will I find when I get there?
Will it be love?
Or will I be ate up and shat out?
Or is there a difference?

I'm born
Airborne
Forlorn
In war torn
Discord
My ripcord
I pull for liberation
Alienation aviation
Away from a station
Of no relation
Where their elation
Lies in degeneration

The fright fair
Nightmare
In sight there
Is a right scare
But light flares
From an illuminated theater
I dive into art
To fill my meter

I consume
Darkened tomb
Screen in room
Is where I loom
Inspiration blooms
From a sense of doom
My separation reparation
That will lead to veneration

My artistic fervor
Drifted further
Drifter's murmurs
Lifted learners
But gifted murderers
Shifted girders
Of shame and honesty
To my grave of modesty
Where they prey upon me

This plagiarism
Layered schism
Cratered rhythm
Of great decisions
Now I make incisions
With repetition
And the definition
Of words stolen from me
They're all I can see
And I can't get free
Or just let it be

Consumption disruption
At this junction
I can't function
A plagiarist
****** mist
Grips my fist
Makes me wish
I don't exist
I must resist
Before I miss
My chance at bliss

They're ****** me
By aping me
Making me
Shaking trees
Of bumblebees
With rumble pleas
On humble knees
Drinking antifreeze

Nobody cares
What's fair
They bear
And share
Blank stares
Up stairs
Of artistic compromise
Integrity lost in lies
They're not that wise
I hypothesize

My baby
Caught rabies
From Hades
Now ladies
Flock to a thief
Giving me grief
Beyond belief
In my coral reef
Sword in sheath
I drown discreet

I observe and record
The undeserved discord
Implored
By dim bores
While indoors
Sins are born
I was warned
But I formed
A sin scorn
Once forlorn
In the storm

The abhorrent
Sent a torrent
Of torment
To the dormant
Informant
That went through my mind
To become realigned
Into something that rhymed
To take up my time

The extension
Of the tension
Met the unmentioned
Intention
Of detention
By hedonism
To see the schism
That reads like a prison
And bleeds with the rhythm
Of a needle's incision

The exclusion
Of my collusion
With my delusion
From night's illusions
Ended their nuisance
By taking a new stance
Of a mute dance
Of loose chance

This war I wage
By turning the page
Has me burning with rage
Learning this cage
Is churning my craze
Yearning to age
To master this maze

This paper cut
Safer hut
Replaced my rut
Graced by trust
On pace for bust
I trace my fuss
To place a plus
On this race to dust

Surprising lane
Transcribing pain
Describing shame
Arriving like rain
Inside of my brain
Extinguishing the flames
With a grammar game
Of a semantic strain
Making my refrain
A poetic plane
That acts as a cane
Instead of a crutch
Removing the mundane
That's why I love it so much

I am a plane traveling at night
I am the night that takes flight
I am a wanderer
And a ponderer
I am a collector
And a selector
I am a part of society
The part that adds variety
I am an independent artist
So I don't have to be the smartest
Because I'm just having fun
And poetry is the pun

People always complain about political correctness
Unless it's something important to them
Then they expect you to use empathetic indirectness
As to not hurt the feelings of men

I'm a homosexual talking to a stranger
They don't detect this
They say ****** and unleash my anger
They don't expect this
They were expecting me to be socially correct
To their bigoted views
They can't handle it when their hatred reflects
And they're given their due

I can't ask for a simple date
Or mention anything about God
I can't ask for their ****** state
That would imply that they're flawed
Yet they say I'm easily offended
But their argument is upended
When there are many topics I must avoid
Or hedge around
Otherwise they will get easily annoyed
And wear a frown

People say Donald Trump is politically incorrect
But that's not true
He's a hateful *******
People confuse that with political incorrectness
But if about half the people who vote are pieces of ****
Can that really be said to be incorrect?
The idea of the president being politically incorrect is absurd
By virtue of being elected his politics are being endorsed
And endorsement is what comprises political correctness
He may know nothing of governance or diplomacy
But he was correct when it came to politics

I live in a country where I can say pretty much whatever I want
And then everyone else can react however they want
To be angry at someone's reaction is its own political correctness
They're just mad it's not their own specific politics being adhered to

So when people mention political correctness I laugh
It's a defensively reflexive path
When they live an unexamined life
But then complain about their plight
They think they're hated because they're white
They think they're hated because they're right
I dislike them because they have low empathy
So I don't want to be near that
Because their hatred starts to enter me
When they call me a queer ***
Then they expect me to love it
But instead I tell them to shove it
They tell me I'm being politically correct
Maybe it's their own lives they should inspect

We sat in the back of science class
bored out of our minds; we'd hit each
other with pencils across our forearms
until we were striped red and white and

we looked like dancing shrimps. We found
comedy in hurting each other, playing
both sadist and *******, feeling
the power of inflicting damage
and the humility of pain.

Years later not much had changed—
the pencils now needles, blood striped our arms.
The classroom, like my home—now a car, we joked
about burning a library in Alexandria. The humor remained

but it had changed; no longer about what lied ahead
we joked about what was;
architects of a fallen temple
that never stood yet continued to be raided.

Once the jokes became stale
I couldn't swallow them anymore
spitting out a poppyseed after
receiving the Heimlich maneuver

yet others choke their whole life
on a hollow humor tumor
benign until malignant
the ruins of their adytum
cover the hill to die on.

I believed I was an immortal
Until you began opening portals
To the future and the past
To the needle and the flask
Portals that warp my mind
Like space and time
Until I dematerialize
From the appearance of lies

This portal I must climb back through
When all the lies have become true
Like when they said portals couldn't be climbed
For there are no ledges
Only pledges
Of a hatred death wish
That leaves me breathless

The portals had to be sealed
You became my quantum mechanic
The tires of the DeLorean squealed
As we abandoned my stationary driveway
And started rectifying my past
By driving forward
The portals' gravitational pull was lifted
And I could walk again
A pedestrian in paradise
Until you teleport into the rain
And I teleport into my brain
Becoming a prisoner
To thoughts that travel at the speed of light
And create a beautiful spectrum in the mirror you presented to me
I fear the day you shatter our light barrier
You'll see you're more mature
And fly away like a jet that's harrier
Because once you can see my thoughts
You'll sell all the stock you bought
You'll see I'm merely mortal
And you'll open new portals

A challenge to dating men
Is I don't want to insult them by calling them gay
Yet there's no way of knowing
Unless I ask
But I never know how they'll react to the possibility
Which is fair
Because the possibility of their wrath
Keeps me from saying anything
So I can live in a fantasy of possibilities

You may write it off as internalized homophobia
Or say that these are problems everyone faces
But the more I see the more I know
And I've seen an aura of toxicity
And the possibility of it's removal

If you're so good at acting like a good person
why can't you just be a good person?

Is it because you don't feel like trying
or are you trying not to feel?

You need to get out there
so out there gets you.

Others will always have things to say
as you will have things to say of others.

I hope you prove them wrong
before you prove them right

and show them who's best
without becoming the worst.

To kiss someone's lips
Or grab them by the hips
One must enlist
In the power dynamic
Inside every relationship
There are surprises
Of different disguises
I must ignore the lies of
Reachers and settlers
Stalkers and meddlers
Those who are aloof
And those who are goofs
The process never foolproof
When animals hide their hooves

I took that dubious bet
I thought it'd be fun
A game of Russian roulette
With a fully loaded gun
There were unfair rules set
That's how you won
A one hundred percent threat
I'd be hurt a ton

It started effecting my health
When I couldn't be myself
Because my self emulation
Amounted to self immolation
So I sought your consultation
For the vacation
Of placation
But you took advantage
At least from my vantage
I could see your rampage
Straight from the Stone Age
Like a time traveling mage
That summoned a cage

There was a pattern
We kept going around
Like the rings of Saturn
Until I hit the ground
You made me foolishly wait to test me
And then hated when things got messy
Now you claim that you're a blessing
For what you do after *******
You must be jesting
Confidence cresting
Never confessing
Or addressing
The emotional underbelly
You just like to undersell me
Saying that I'm underwhelming
I'm talking to a tundra telling me
That it makes me a better me

Apologizing not part of your plan
You tell me you don't understand
You must think I'm stupid
To treat me so putrid
My patience you've used it
So the dead weight loosened
Once I let go of your noose hand

You come back begging
You incorrectly pegged me
As forgiving not petty
I guess you never met me
Or at least said goodbye to the best me
After never acting on the behest of me
And making me think less of me
You've become a pest to me
Not part of my destiny
Just part of the generic sea
Of those I let be

Preacher sees in black and white
So preacher sees he’s right
Justified by God’s light
To judge on sight

Preacher says secular music is evil
Not meant for holy people
He’s not even talking about Slayer
Or Jay-Z rapping about being a player
He uses Led Zeppelin as an example
When more relevant options are ample
My musical taste is trampled
Like some shameful scandal

He tells me not to listen to Crazy Train
So I think he has a lazy brain
That didn’t listen to what Ozzy was saying
That song wasn’t about foxy ladies
Or boxing babies
Or buying a Mercedes
Just diagnosing the rabies
Of a species in training

If I don’t listen
How can I help?
It sounds like a mission
To focus on myself
Instead of pain that is felt
By those who have welts
That kind of life seems reductive and boring
When outside it’s storming
And everyone ignores me
The music is God performing
Just for me

Preacher wants to delete
The musical elite
Until only gospel plays on repeat
At that point I’ll take a seat
Saying that’s neat
But I’m looking for more
Like opinions on war
And the dominion formed
Through judgmental scorns
That leaves our culture torn

The church is a microcosm of society
With the preacher dictating propriety
Saying ignore the secular entirely
To not live so direly

I found the divide between the secular and religious
When both take their culture to an extent prodigious
They start acting vicious
Once they’re comfortable in their niches

I drive all night
The only way I know how to fight
I drive all night
To search for light

I noticed a possum
I thought it was playing dead
Until blood blossomed
Like a flower out of its head
My vision flooded by red
My heart filled with dread
My mortal anxiety only grew
When I realized I have blood too

I hear the deer
They're busy snickering and bickering
While my emergency lights are flickering
They scatter in different directions
After possible danger detections
They are timid and meek
They hide in remote foothills
People see them as weak
Because their kind doesn't ****

I followed a mad rabbit
That made a bad habit
Out of always running
And digging holes
It thought it was cunning
And made of gold
Until a predatory eagle
Made it feel less regal

I witnessed a raccoon eating and called it a thief
The next day I saw it lying dead in the street
Did my erroneous blame
Lead to its execution?
That's part of the game
In this institution

Every step
Could mean death
Just by making noises
You're making choices
There are jaguars and elephants in some places
There are humans in others
Predators have different faces
They could be your brother

On this darkened road
I reach a sedentary mode
When I approach a herd of stray cattle
In my mind there is a reciprocal battle
I could ******* a saddle
I know where to prophetically lead them
But the path of least resistance is freedom
Is it really right to use disciplinary order
To keep them within a fenced border?

This road is a loop
That passes by farms of no fruit
Or vegetables for that matter
Yet we somehow get fatter
Society bloats while it starves
Because we refused to see the signs that were carved
So mothers start crying
And vultures start flying
Because everyone is dying
We're always making new recruits
To drive along this predatory loop

All movies are predictable
after I've seen them.

I analyze the plot
and think of all the different possible outcomes
and if those outcomes are wrong nobody cares
but if one of my thoughts were correct
then your movie is predictable
and therefore bad.

I may be missing out on key subtext
like themes or symbolism
but I can't miss a chance to virtue signal
my own intelligence
which is higher than that of the filmmaker.

Maybe I shouldn't go into a movie
with a "you better impress me" attitude
while constantly trying to predict what's next
because maybe having a negative mentality
might affect my viewing experience negatively
or maybe amusement parks are more for me
but I still want to have an opinion
even on things I don't understand or care about
so I treat art like a math test
rather than an empathy building endeavor.

Predictability is a valid criticism for a movie
but every movie that's found a large audience
has been called predictable by someone
but when I say it it's true because I'm smart
or perhaps all movies are predictable
especially after I've seen them.

I've never made a movie
but if I did
you wouldn't be able to predict
exactly how ****** it would be.

I am perching
I am searching
Sitting still
My mind filled
With the vigilance
Of a militant
Looking to invade
By throwing grenades
And committing atrocities
At a high velocity
Yet I'm made to lay and wait
My love feels like hate
Stuck in this crate
It's getting late
My feral fate
Makes me shake
Like the love intake
That makes me break
When you're raising the stakes

I see your fin in the water
Moving in for the slaughter
Acting like a shark
You go dark
Like a silent submarine
You float near the bottom
Your gun is submachine
That's how you caught them
Now it's my turn
For a bullet burn

Treat me like a ***** distractor
You're a fractured compactor
Leaving me partially intact
But most of me I lack
After your attack
I should thank you for taking out the trash
But I could've done without the clash
Because now I'm just a pile of ash
Stuck in a bird cage
At an increased age
If I become a phoenix and rise
It'll be an imprisoned surprise

I thought I had prepared
Yet now I need repairs
When it's my love I share
And it's casually broken
To be used as a token
You must be joking
There's no way I could've ever prepared
For the fact that no one ever cared

I need to express myself
For my mental health
Not to melt
But I don’t make art
Because it’s torn apart
Like a bleeding heart
Eaten by seething sharks

In a match of the friendless
Versus the defenseless
It’s the pretentious
Who condescend us

They hit all
The pitfalls
With wit small
But sit tall
Behind thick walls
Of vitriol

They see examining art
As a way to prove they’re smart
By blindly rejecting what others like
And enjoying the obscure
As if being different makes them right
Which is obviously absurd

On a plane where opinion
Is treated as fact
They claim dominion
Over the artistic track
By shooting black flak
Until I angrily react
And flies I attract

You might take the angle
I think everyone is painful
I’m not saying there aren’t angels
But there are definitely demons
With no explainable definite reasons
Why they call some artists heathens
Based on the nonsense they believe in

Pretension and ignorance
Have a large difference
But both are carnivorous
Most of their comments
Aren’t very honest
Nor are they modest
They just burn the hottest

Their judgment stuck
On calling everything putrid
The best filmmakers ****
The best musicians are stupid
They can hardly be called lucid
Trying to be the negative Confucius

Their hate reaping
Gatekeeping
Breaks peeking
Artists seeking
One day reaching
Public preaching

I start to withdraw
Once they’re near
My heart won’t unthaw
Frozen in fear
The crowd is suggestible and fickle
So one negative trickle
Causes an avalanche of icicles
Knocking me off life’s bicycle

They discourage people from putting themselves out there
As they turn culture into a doubt fair
Only producing shout air
To reroute stares
Away from emotional expression
And toward themselves
With their rhetorical aggression
They put us in hell

I escape the prison of my mom’s womb
To enter the prison of a hospital room
Until I’m taken to my homestead
And my own bed
Where I’m grown fed
But I withdraw with dread
Into a prison in my head

This home is a prison
My parents don’t listen
My mistakes
Bring big spanks
Like prison shanks
Stabbing my flanks
So I go to the bank
And get my own account
So I can move out
Of their prison of doubt

I travel into the local town
It’s the closest prison around
Where much more is allowed
But I’m beholden to the crowd
Who are extraordinarily proud
Of who they knock down
Into lockdown
I wish I was braver
Than these slavers
But I’m no savior
I must hide my behavior
From the prison pavers

I gradually grow consigned
To the prison in my mind
I use to conquer the grind
But I become blind
Freedom I can’t find
In society’s bind
I must stay in line
All of the time

I become a prison guard
So I won’t be barred
By those that act hard
I play the authority card
And ignore the scarred
For diamond shards
Eventually I become warden
And order my foreman
To go to a *****’s den
And find sore men
For imprisonment

In a prison of my excess
The only way to keep success
Is to never confess
And claim I’m blessed
Everyone else is a mess
In need of my fascist flex
So I create laws based on my own personal morality
Confirming I’m right
Pushing out of sight
My personal blights
While I gladly smite
Those I don’t like

This country is a jail
Based around sales
Sold with tall tales
Written by the prison industrial complex
That gives my success its ***** context
And if anyone objects
I’ll arrest them too
Until I’ve built a zoo
Of animals turning blue
Tasting my prison food

In a prison of decisions
That need revision
I continue my mission
Creating nuclear fission
And causing wars
So I may have more
To support my store
Selling blood and gore

Our planet is a cell
I’ve turned into hell
With an oily smell
Satan would recoil himself
But I point to my money
To prove that I’m smart
Can you believe those dummies
Think I have heart?
My heart exists in a cage
Imprisoned through age
And a capitalist rage
To win the war I wage

The prison I build for myself
Are prisons I build for others
When I can only count wealth
I lose love for my brothers
As they run for cover
From a lifelong slumber
Assigned prisoner numbers

If I saw a man casually walking down the street
I most likely wouldn’t consider his wants and needs
He probably doesn’t want to be bothered by a stranger anyway
But if he were visibly dying; bleeding, maimed, mortally wounded
I would feel inclined to help him
And he’d probably be grateful for my gesture
So when do I stop leaving him alone
And start helping him?
Where is the line between
Someone in need of help
And someone in need of privacy?

I used to think the line was physical trauma
It makes sense to try to help someone if they’re bleeding
But then I considered how painful emotional trauma can be
Then I thought everyone always needed help no matter what
But that seems like a platitude
I can’t help everyone all the time
Especially because people need to develop trust in me
In order to even want to receive my help

Maybe he’s bleeding
Because he’s believing
The end of his breathing
Will ultimately be relieving
Or maybe he’s maimed
With an attention aim
Of getting my name
Into his game

My dramatic yet pragmatic fear
Of my heart getting speared
Makes me stave off peers
Yet I crave them to be near
So which way do I steer?

This man on the street
Should I wash his feet?
Give him food to eat?
Pretend he’s a blank sheet
That can’t speak?
Is putting him on the shelf
A form of giving him help?
Or am I just worrying about myself?
Because deep down privately
I want to give him privacy
To avoid the possible piracy
His violent virus breeds

Does he want my company
Or is he actually hunting me?
I can’t tell at first glance
Giving me the worst chance
He’ll reject my cursed dance
With an arcane church stance
Or a negative mentality
Or a lack of personality
I can’t fathom the totality
Of all the possible modalities
That’ll lead to my fatality
So why should I even try?
Should I just let him die?

This country's being privatized
By politicians using private eyes
Manipulating through public lies
And their hate filled cries
The question becomes a stark why
We ask the dark unwise
Driving us to laced dimes
Or writing ****** rhymes
Love is the answer I surmise
Nobody else buys
Emotions have no value in the marketplace
Unless you're of a certain race
That reminds them of themself
Then they're more likely to share their wealth

We need more than paper *****
To tear down these paper walls
The order becomes too tall
When we apply an objective concept (currency)
To a subjective principle (value)
Our ideas of value get tangled
Our empathy is mangled
Our discourse becomes angled
Discussions turn to wrangles
And cats are bred Bengal
As our domestic lives
Never left the jungle
But there's always a rumble
Regimes always tumble
Humanity continues to stumble
Earth's health starts to fumble
Molesting the planet like a creepy uncle
Until we see our follies unfold
Then will we be so bold
To say we can do it on our own?

You were asked if you wanted to get together and
you said probably. Now that answer’s haunting me
after seeing how quickly  probably turns into not
with me. You just promised me probably for a
proper flee from damaged property. Do you think
if you said maybe I’d assume you hate me? No
would’ve been the correct route to go instead of
engendering excessive expectations for my existence.

Pastors probably preach patience but paradigms
shift once penetrated by paramount peer pressure.
Answers are hard to find when only probably is
spoken by God to me. I’m probably an oddity that
doesn’t know what probably means, but I guessed
it meant yes unless something unforeseen happened
to be. But probably just means you’re not for me
less awkwardly.

I don’t know where to begin, probably when you told
me my live for you was a sin. I don’t know when it
ends, probably when I have no more time to spend. I
don’t know who I am, probably the guy that fell for
love’s scam. I don’t know what I desire, probably to
extinguish love’s fire.

Prognosticating patriarchs
pundits and priests
pencil paladins
in penthouse palaces
riding what they're writing
writhing while they're rising
everyone's got a chance
chants the gaunt equalizer
its equal lie heard
plunges us into the absurd
assured of justice and fairness
we become curt and careless
saying if you work in a hairnet
or get your verve from clarinet
you deserve less than a baroness
because she has parents best
but when I ask of the parentless
those talking point to the talking points
so what's the point of talking
when talking leads to pointing
the finger in anger at strangers
who they just called equal
but that was merely a platitude
I'm starting to hate people
and their selfish myopic attitude.

My philosophy as I drive down the road
I don't feel bad if I don't feel it under my tires
That means I step on spiders
Swat mosquitoes
Take antibiotics
Life is not created equal
When we live atop an ever shifting puzzle
Where the value of life
Is dependent on the ability to take life
A virus's sole purpose is to attack host cells and reproduce
So is our's
I guess we'll see who kills who first

Trees get larger trunks
Animals get larger teeth
Humans get larger guns
And as those guns hold our hopes
Humanity holds the hopes for all organisms
To one day transcend competition
But in the meantime
I'm worried about the cracks in the road
Because I can feel them shifting under my tires
But there is cement on my wheels
And on the vehicles around me
We pave this road we travel on
Until the cement runs dry
And our vessel dies
For newer improved cars to continue
On the freeway to transcendence

I’m a ship prepared to sail
Through aerial gales
To live a fairytale
Above scary jails
That sadly prevail
Below my trail

I look below me
To see hatred growing
While the lights are strobing
From the guns they’re loading
That are my foreboding
If I ever start slowing
I’ll hit the ground lowly
And the bullets flowing
Will get to know me

But I have protectors
Against those who hector
They watch my vector
And disarm the projectors
My protectors are my friends
My protectors are my colleagues
And my flight will never end
As long as they will follow me

Enemy insurgents
Become a disturbance
Creating turbulence
As they herd the dense
Until they’re furious
And shoot the breeze
With RPGs
Until my army sees
They’re harming me

My friends flank me in jet fighters
To protect me from the assault
And my squad keeps getting wider
By adding those I exalt
I fly in the clouds
With my friends all around
Breaking the barrier of sound
While never going down

Foes shoot missiles
Of dismissal
With words visceral
To make me miserable
But my valiant defenders
Shoot down the offenders
With consolation rendered
In their care so tender

We employ evasive maneuvers
To avoid the pervasive losers
And the invasive abusers
All of whom are cruisers
Flying low
Dying slow
Blinding snow
Lines their nose

But the enemy fleet is approaching
Our territory they’re encroaching
While we’re somberly toasting
Seeing the numbers they’re boasting
We try to fight
With all our might
But day turns to night
As I gain a suffering plight

The hovering helicopters
Shoot distracting flares
With tantalizing offers
Leaving my targeting impaired
So I veer off course
Like a lost horse
In a frost force
Of top torque

Once my squad is separated
The enemy is elevated
Showing the hell that waited
While my friends designated
Me as venerated
Like Satan irrigated
The peers I hated
Just being patient
Until I use a spaceship

The demons chase
Me into space
Until there’s no trace
Of the Devil’s face
But I can’t eject now
With space all around
While my crew starts to leave
Between asteroids I weave
While trying to grieve
My group disintegrating

They float into the nether
Quiet as a feather
As my ties are severed
They float away forever
And I start drifting alone
Drifting becomes my home
Drifting into the dark unknown
Depression drifts into my bones

The pathetic get pedantic
with thoughts mostly planted
the world they misunderstand it
yet there’s still discourse demanded
so they take terminology and brand it
as whatever they need to stand fit
and begin digging us into the **** ditch
of their messy rhetorical **** sandwich.

They use the term doublethink
as a subtle wink
to how they’re dumb and stink
on a drug that sinks.

They use echo chamber
to dismiss with anger
the opinions of strangers
for perceived danger.

Anything they don’t like is virtue signaling
it’s my Aunt Gertrude’s symphony
to construe simply
the spider’s spindling.

They call others thought police
while they have a lot to preach
because they want a monopoly
over what the public got to see.

They use the term hivemind
to deny why
the other side cries
saying they want a prize
for parroting the right thing
they avoid the scorpion’s sting
by diminishing and destructing
the other’s mind as nothing.

All of these terms have their place
yet we use them to race
to arguments lacking grace
putting palm to face
to bomb the brakes
of the train that takes
us to a lane of fake
******* banter waste.

I am the pretender
You must precensor
When I'm an inventor
Who can't get centered
I'm the apologist
You're the psychologist
We have a suitable deal
You provide an even keel
And cook delicious meals
And let my fingers feel
But you do so much more
Going deeper than the shore

You make a difference
By insistence
I see your footprints
In the distance
They lead me to progress
My mind cannot process
Those things I can't fathom
You effortlessly grab them

You were my bastion of behavior
I thought you were my savior
You're more like Charles Xavier
Controlling my mind
To keep me blind
By taking my vision
When you make your incision
And put me in prison

You're Sigmund Freud
On steroids
You fill my void
Then get annoyed
You cured me of my madness
Yet instilled sadness
When I got addicted to your healing
But then heard your tires peeling
After all your analysis
You deemed me talentless

You used to be my example of what to be
Now you're my example of what to flee
You made me hate the number three
While running my car into a tree
Which made me scream ouch
My ejection from your couch
So I hide in my palace
And drink from a chalice
Filled with mindless malice
While holding my phallus
But I learned my lesson
One last confession
Someone that can calm my brain
Can also leave a permanent stain

You see me as the bacteria
And yourself as the antibiotic
I see you across the cafeteria
Acting psychotic
Because of what I find ******
You treat me like I'm toxic
But you're seen as normal
So I hide beneath the coral
To avoid your aggression
That will teach me a lesson
About correctly guessing
Where your fists will go next
You tell me I want it like ***
This is your way to flex
To show you have an edge
You single out the marginalized
There's no way you'll hedge
When you have harm in your eyes
And then use charm as a disguise
To make me cry over spilt milk
Because I am not of your ilk
For I am as soft as silk
Like the sheets I want to roll in with you
Instead you shoved my face into poo
As my ***** grew

I think of killing myself
With my gun
When I think of filling myself
With your ***
While pretending I'm your son
And swallowing you like gum
Those are my ideas of fun
Yours is to tell me to run
From your intensely penetrating fists
That make me regret my penetrating wish
As you brandish the weapon
From the movie Inception
That launches you into my dreams
Giving my thoughts a singular theme
As my mouth continually screams
I was born on the wrong team

You wanted to exhibit your power
In this seemingly arbitrary hour
So you broke my nose
To show off for your hoes
An off the cuff
Attempt to be tough
But I found it deeply affecting
When I could feel your hatred injecting
Making me wonder if I'd ever be free
After I saw the only ending I could see

You move to strike me again
This time I have my mac 10
That I brought to school
For a one sided duel
You changed the trajectory of my life
By changing the trajectory of my bullets
You taught me about strife
You taught me how power is the coolest
You taught me to move on to your friends
Their lives I must remember to end
This is the message I'm choosing to send
When they sat back and watched the hate
Like it was 1938
I lost my sympathy
After being treated differently
And gained a ruthless anger
That turned me into a stranger
So I let the automatic gun spray
Faster than they could pray
For their hoots and hollers
I shoot their collars
Creating shade in the halls
That I make when they fall
The feeling goes to my *****
I become strangely intoxicated
By the death of those who hated
So I go back to your dead body
And do what you felt was so naughty
And now there is no one even around for you to tell
That I ****** your corpse while you watched from Hell

I’m a snowflake falling through night’s mute darkness
landing in the prismatic puddle of gasoline
left by the fumes of your car’s exhaust
collecting on top of the gravelly grime
of an Amazon fulfillment center
where the snow settles but never sticks
in the ascending puddles behind your car.

I shed tears
You shed humanity
I dread and fear
Your unstable insanity
You loosen your compassion
Like it's your belt
For it's in your fashion
To inflict welts
On the ground I knelt
Doubled over in pain
From a punishing rain
My eyes welled up and my vision got blurry
I was unable to break your encryption of fury
My mind was in constant examination
Of your gift of violent contamination
Lines were crossed on my back
Living life on your torture rack

You become my God
You never spare the rod
My brother may be able
But I'm on *******
I turned the tables
By torching my brain
On the ****** train
I invented a game
Out of ruining your creation
My veins experienced deflation
Until I saw the error of my ways
Adopting your negative craze
You wanted me to get used to pain
But I'd rather get used to change

The effects of corporal punishment are felt
When society hits us with a conveyor belt
Convincing us if something worked it must continue to
Our childhood experience this is imprinted through
We figure our children must be belted
After our minds have been smelted
Forged in fire
Our hearts retired
As we grew colder
The beaten grew older
And reproduced
And re-introduced
A punishing perception of the world
They beat the clam that holds the pearl

The raccoons on this Kentucky farm formed a quagmire. They're wild thieves embedded in the ecosystem. Irreplaceable valuables are erased in the cover of night. The farmer offers to negotiate with the masked vermin. A raccoon response results in scramble trash, they say they've got a birthright from the past. Wits end is where dog ownership begins after the adoption of a rabid dog that only sees death. Regret rocks raccoons wrestling with Cerberus but there's no turning back, Cujo is chained in their yard.  Hellhound terror leaves spellbound hares abandoning their warrens until only reddened raccoons remain with their canine warden.

Lamenting the loss of liberty, a revolutionary raccoon resolves to romp around. The dog of damnation's laser locked bloodlust focuses on the rodent-like rebel. Charging like a rocket out of its launcher, the driven dog is lured from its isolated den. This game of cat and mouse has magnanimous stakes reaching across the farmer's lake.

The rebellious raccoon runs rapidly from the rabid ravenous Rover. The runner dips and dives through cover to avoid the teeth of the other. A snapping jaw matches the movements of the juking and cutting critter. Inside of a hollow tree becomes the raccoon's destination, he enters and ascends, the snarling snapper chasing in after him.

Death's embrace seems certain for the raccoon as the hound's teeth shave the edge of its fur, but at that point the fatter can go no further. The hound's blinding bloodlust vanishes upon realizing it's stuck. Its unwavering rage turns into panicked fear once it realizes its end is near. The raccoon revels in the dog's misery, enjoying watching it slowly starving.

The raccoons revelry is rebuked once the dog just starts staring at it. They both stare at each other, unblinking, waiting for the other to die. Neither of them willing to move an inch for fear of accidentally helping the other. Both willing to die to ensure their opponent's death. The hollow facade that saved the raccoon now becomes its tomb. Defeat and death act as a sedating punishment for the dog's aggression. Fierce foes drink the poison of resentment as they both accept their demise while staring into each other's eyes.

You call it a violin or a fiddle
Depending on how you play it
The same way life is a riddle
Depending on how you say it
Life can get raw in the middle
Depending on how you filet it
You can dawdle and piddle
Or be somewhat fallacious
But your time could run out
Running a frivolous route
And you can't look back and wish to have more
When you don't know what to be wishing for

There's a vexing question
That needs inspection
It's an intervention
Of introspection
It's a question colossal
Not learned by the fossils
That could cause a heart attack
If there is courage you lack
The question is simple
What will you do when there are no answers?
I feel like a *******
In a room full of dancers
Because they hear the question and ignore it
I hear the question and continually mourn it

I am growing clockwise
To the clock's lies
Telling me I have time
Which should be a crime
So when the judge asks me the question
I plead the fifth
Because my actions upon further reflection
Are crimes I admit

The world
I've searched this
And found
No purpose
Only change
To rearrange
The elements
Of this settlement
Like the flames
In my brain
That are never quite the same
Yet are always a runaway train
I could say God's name in vain
Or look for someone to blame
But when my humanistic duty beckoned
I said I couldn't be bothered that second
Yet now I frantically fret
For I'm filled with regret
I should've seen that coming
When I was mind numbing
But I'll learn it was too late
When I'm dying
I'll learn that this is the fate
I was buying
All just because of a simple question
It takes a lifetime to learn the lesson

Ghost Adventures is a joke
a TV show and a hoax
for people who’ve toked
and superstitious folks.

They’re live streaming an episode on the Dybbuk Box
for viewers to gimmick watch
The Duke and Earl’s
farce to unfurl.

They bring in a rabbi
to play along
to say what’s wrong
but the rabbi says there’s nothing to the Dybbuk Box
in response the ******* scoffs
because the cynic stopped
his thickened plot.

They tried to use the rabbi’s trade
to substantiate their charade
with credibility of a higher grade
but the rabbi protected his religion
better him than someone indifferent
who’s living in a paycheck prison
instead the rabbi made the decision
to stop the derision
with a logical incision.

I went down the rabbit hole
scrounging through darkness
squirming a maze of movements
just to reach a dead end
with only a rabbit waiting there
to inform me that I’m stuck in a hole.

Heavy rain falls in torrents
Flooding my gate
With weather abhorrent
In a vulnerable state
My mind is absorbent
So my defenses are down
On the muddy ground
In this ****** town
Unfortified
Dead inside
I’d like to hide
From the rain I cry

I don't need help changing my tire
I need your political support
to put out this fire
set by the angry mob of course
and there's no way I can force
you to see from the high horse
you gained from light chores
so keep your random acts of kindness
as long as you cure your blindness
I think we could find this
more profound niceness
embedded within the social construct
so kindness is required and not luck
because our intermittent charity
won't achieve economic parity
making our situation scarily
here to stay apparently
so don't tell me to be civil
from behind the American sigil
that sits on a swivel
with **** symbols
and those that swindle
a nation of marks
pushing shopping carts
in a lockstep art
dividing us from the heart
so even if you mow my yard
we'll still be miles apart
separated by a canyon of cordiality
that a river of oppression runs through
carrying away our ordeal reality
as fast as guns do
when they're held by the sightless
who convince themselves they're righteous
through random acts of kindness.

This week I want to be a rapper
so enjoy me repeating what everyone else says
as I resume my desperate journey for clout:
I come from the place I was born in
it made me tougher due to being a violent environment
stemming from socioeconomic conditions that continue to be neglected
but even though people born in these conditions usually end up poor
I did not because I'm a special individual
who admittedly sold drugs in the past
but now I have legitimate revenue streams
and thus no longer have to sell drugs
and can still buy plenty of expensive commodities
like cars and shoes and jewelry
so of course the combination
of my new worth and the public's awareness of me
leads to a plethora of opportunities for ****** *******
which is a lot of fun
like the drugs I do if I so choose
because my insulated social circle
condones and supports such activities
but there are people who don't appreciate my modality
you may or may not be one of them
but I don't care what you think (as long as you're listening)
because I believe your opinion is affected
by your jealousy of my material possessions and lifestyle
which I don't think is fair because you aren't aware
of the totality of my experience
or how my financial success is equivalent
to the amount of labor I produced
therefore I choose to disregard your negative opinion henceforward
because I'm compelled to follow my own determination
for what's suitable for me
which is rapping about hopping out the 'rari
and how you can't play me like Atari
over trap drums and magnums
you can't hear me say I'm sorry.

The Christian imagination is captured
by the idea of the rapture
where Jesus comes to save us
like he shouldn’t just shame us
because no one is blameless
for this great mess.

It’s a dangerous mentality
to say our vitality
is based on morality
the rapture is that emphatically
where Jesus is battling
the forces of the ****** darkness
who are those I deem heartless.

The rapture can be Christian revenge ****
or their way of explaining this death storm
either way it prevents our best form
which is what Jesus was sent for
but now the student is the mentor
twisting words that meant more.

War is pushed to the side
it’s viewed as a sign
we’re living in the end times
like we’re in a hopeless ******
and tentacles just went by.

Nuclear proliferation
and global warming
bring them elation
for the rapture’s forming
so if the wars get gory
and match their prophetic story
they’ll practice diminished mourning.

God loves everyone individually
so it seems silly to me
what billions before us have seen
isn’t the same fate we’re deemed
why would we be
treated differently?

We must all walk through death’s door alone
I wish I could take everyone in my home
but that mentality is ******-suicide prone
yet when the comfort of company
becomes too much for me
I say quite lovingly
the rapture is coming
to drown out war drums drumming
I say the rapture is coming
to drown out more guns gunning
I say the rapture is coming
humanity’s mental growth is stunting
I say the rapture is coming.

Reality show
Notoriety hoes
Follow what glows
Behind a fame nose
In a shame pose
As the game goes
They keep staying low
While nasty stains grow
From thinking vapidly
And acting rapidly
Not speaking factually
We don’t see them actually

Seeming tame
And plain
Seeking fame
Their aim
All the same
They play a game
Of hoops of flame

Becoming circus acts
By removing tact
On a negative track
Of shooting flak
And shooting back
Negativity attracts
Harmful impacts
At an old impasse
Of cold syntax
Warranting a gin tax
Drinking from a tin flask
So the emptiness is masked

The reverb
Resurge
Rewords
The birds
Caught in the Internet
Like a flying intercept
Stealing their intellect
With a mundane misdirect
Of inane interests

A new method for dollar dreamers
Now the cynical screamers
Are digital streamers
Pivotal pleasers
Concerned with clicks
By scratch and kick
They hatch a trick
To match a *****
Dispatched to fix
Their lack of hits

The loud and obnoxious
Are proud of the noxious
And opening boxes
They stream video games
Other people made
They just played
For a good grade
In the leisure lane
No pleasure or pain
To treasure my brain

Their reality shows
In modality woes
Personality froze
Under their nose
In a monitor glow
Development slows
As far as irrelevant goes
They’re part of the flow
That doesn’t grow

Taking the shameful road to attention
For a dishonorable mention
Avoiding knowledge retention
For a superficial invention
Of social extension
They have a fatal mentality
That perception is reality
But the exception is vitality
That isn’t just an eventuality
For one must be capable and willing
To try to produce something fulfilling
Instead of just simple time killing
While hourglass sand keeps spilling

My hairline is receding
my care line is receding
I'm a feline proceeding
up the wall to hit the ceiling
of what I've been feeling
which should have me reeling
but my blood is quickly congealing
thanks to this art I've been stealing
from the vault in my mind
that's guarded at all times
except when words on lines
crack the code's design
and redefine
what it means to be alive.

There’s a message
under the last text I sent you
that reads Read Yesterday
my heart was red yesterday
my heart you read yesterday
my heart had bled yesterday
so my heart has fled yesterday
into today
the sun’s rays
cure the dumb craze
brought on by that one phrase
that reads Read Yesterday.

The bass player for Korn
Reginald “Fieldy” Arvizu
Plays in a distinctive style
Using the slap bass technique
By down tuning the bass guitar
To the point where there is enough slack in the strings
That they hit the fretboard while playing
Slapping the bass
He also increases the treble significantly
Accentuating a recurring clicking sound throughout their recordings
Some people view this positively
I feel it gives the music more texture
Like putting a little pepper on the song
But some hate it
They say it makes Korn’s music unenjoyable
And annoying
A little clicking noise
Makes their music instantly horrible

For some people it’s never good enough
They will always be listening for your small clicking noises
And demand you change at their whim
Ordering you to tighten your strings until they snap
They say Fieldy *****
They say Fieldy is a ****** bassist
While never putting out any content themselves
So they can throw rocks from the dark
Forcing one to ask themself
Who am I making this art for?
The fickle and ignorant masses
Or the jaded and pretentious elitists?
The answer must be neither
Art must be made for the self
With the hope that others will be able to relate
And whatever your craft is
Some people will appreciate the hard work and dedication
And some people will hear a small clicking sound
You just have to slap their face
With the way you slap your bass

I heard a frog ribbit
And decided to **** it
That's when I filled it
With my drill bit
And it turned into a dead prince
I regretfully winced
My hands I rinsed
And moved on

There's a mass grave in my backyard
Like an *******
I never thought it would go this far
It's a hassle
This giant hole
From acting cold
It's filled with princes and thieves alike
In this pit there is no light
No wrong or right
Only useless fights
And sleepless nights

As the bodies start stacking
My suitcase I start packing
But ambition to leave I'm lacking
So it's the wall I'm smacking
As the hole behind me gets bigger
My finger is on the trigger
Shooting at the deceased
Like they have a zombie disease
That restricts righteous release

This grave is swallowing my house
Yet I just keep wallowing around
Muting the surrounding sounds
That remind me of hell hounds
Barking from below
Regret they bestow
When they could've been golden retrievers
Instead they flung their molten cleaver
Their searing liquid knife
Causes my insipid strife
When the droplets stab holes in my skin
And then start burning me from within
Their weapon may not be solid
It doesn't matter what you call it
It hurts me all the same
So I try to forget their name

I dug my own grave
Now I must lie in it
But when everybody lies
That doesn't seem like such a big deal
When in this world it's hard to tell what's real
Especially the emotions people make me feel
When I have things they're looking to steal
So I **** them in my mind
But they take pieces of me
I'm running out of time
Which definitely isn't free
It's the main commodity
They seek to take off of me
That's why I must bitterly bury them
But my conscience continues to carry them

Your beauty
Shot through me
Assigning a duty
I knew I'd be losing
So I made an advance
And you declined
I knew I had a slim chance
But I was still losing my mind

I felt stupid
I felt weak
Why did Cupid
Make me weep?
From behind the gate he keeps
He shot arrows penetrating deep
That made me fall for the elite
Only to be trampled by feet

I saw perfection
Feed me rejection
I cursed my reflection
And avoided detection
After losing the election
You could tell I was bitter
So you left me to wither
And call you a sinner
For not eating my dinner
Feeding damage inner
Rotting my liver

I was gobsmacked
By the odd lack
Of contact
With your fond laugh
Sitting there seething
To white noise on the TV
Sounding like the rain heaving
Or a pack of coyotes eating
My still beating heart
You're the fleeting spark
That leaves me dark

I wished there was no one on Earth
So you could be as lonely as I
After you took all my self worth
And left me to die
I reached for a piece of the pie
Then you made me reach for the sky
Using the pistol in your eyes
You made me reach for the sky
It hurt then but looking back I know why
God put you in my life but not by my side
You made me reach for the sky

There's a segment of the Christian fraternity
arguing vehemently to reject modernity
saying we should be one way for eternity
until it's their turn to go to the infirmary
then stop worrying about things infernally
and start rationalizing things internally.

They exacerbate Christianity's misuse
on legislating social issues
imposing their will
through force and ****
then when they see people leaving the church
they don't think it's from all the pain and hurt
they think it's a ******* problem with the music or the youth group
maybe people don't want to go somewhere that'll abuse you.

They reject modernity because modernity rejected them
and yearn for a time when society favored men
yearning for a culture that would favor them more
and share their hatred of the person next door.

They conflate traditionalism with regression
to give off the impression
they've just been taught different lessons
and are part of a harmless collection
but it's all the same **** in different packaging
in this society they've run savagely
did they think that after all that ravaging
we'd forget through apathy?

Why plunge us back into primal schisms?
Could it be they're just fans of tribalism?
They feel their side has the right numbers
yet they're rapidly diminishing
they want the giant to awaken from its slumber
for a genocide finishing.

These people need to find a better way to live
which is apparently something Jesus can give
but I'm not seeing that on the end of their shiv
pointed at me to make me not sin
so that their side can win
at something that isn't a game
I wish they'd see it the same.

They can grow a beard and work out
they may be able to dish the hurt out
but the simple phrase "reject modernity"
simply reflects their immaturity.

They keep ratcheting up the pressure
They keep hatcheting for good measure
They keep laughing at their leisure
They keep blasting guns for pleasure
Creating a series of tubes
Where every which way I lose

There's an existential
Differential
From my potential
That's unintentional
For I want to be better
Than the scarlet letter
That's my resume header
And my pain embedder

But there's a series of events
That keep happening
That leaves everyone incensed
They start attacking me
Until I take my mask off
They uncomfortably back off
Get in their rocket and blast off
Until it's humanity I'm the last of

There's a pattern
That gives me purpose
So I climb a ladder
Of fruitless searches
For a freedom purchase
From a shame merchant
Who offers the joy of fantasy
At the price of a crushing reality
So I can hear Satan answering
As a doctor trying to cure my malady

I feel shame
Then humiliation
This repetitive game
Provides inspiration
To avoid every friendship
Because my love will end it
And bring a torture endless
So either way I'll be friendless
After I reluctantly ask
And they say no
Am I still expected to bask
In their beautiful glow?

I see a range of emotions
From pathetic pity to anger
Always leaving the notion
I live in a city of strangers
And walls of concrete
That can't be beat
One must take a seat
And accept defeat
Then repeat

I'm a machine-
gun wielding ******-
path of destruction
scorched by hatred
plumes of resentment
billow into the air above me.

Kidnapped
at an early age.
Given straps
and a surly rage.

I have a vicious commander
who wants to get even
so I find it odd
I should call him God
but that's the law.
My arms
an extension of his will.
My mind
an extension of his mouth.

I see my life chiseled in stone before me
it's defined by a maniac's brutal orders.
So in order to avoid misery
I embrace it.
My value is in violence
so I say carpe diem
and RPG them.

I mitigate my murderous misery
through ****** and methamphetamines.
Saccharine civilians deal with life
through hope and faith.
I resent them
for the life they've lived
for the hope they've maintained.
I wonder if their hope and faith will survive
after being ***** by a child.

You grind off my fingerprints
To remove my identity
Putting your finger to my lips
The silence will better me
You're a predatory anemone
That can look ahead of me
Sensing the dread in me
Slicing me splendidly
Despite my defended pleas
You ruthlessly rend me
To bring about an ending
To that ring you were lending
So our lives will stop blending

You break my heart
Then sow it back together
You stop and start
Leading me on forever
As I fall into darkness
Only seeing your face
Is this just a dark test?
Or is this a futile race?
I move like a shark rests
When you can't be replaced

I am paralyzed
By your hazel eyes
Catching the gaze of mine
Through a maze of lies
And my ways of crime
Are infantilized
By your infanticide
Roller coaster ride
Of which I must abide
Because this lust of mine
Convinces me rust is fine
And to ignore passing time

You make me want to live
You make me want to die
I have everything to give
Instead I reluctantly fly
Through the dark clouds looming
Formed after you cut through me
With the acuteness of your beauty
And the bullets you were shooting
That I attempted to dodge
And denied their existence
I want you to live in my lodge
Yet I always meet resistance

Respec / respecced / respeccing is
                                                 video game
I have respect                         slang for
for those who respec            redistributing
because it rejects                   a character's
that what was recent            skill points
cannot relent                          or attributes
so we can repent                   in order to
and reinvent                          change their
for a new intent                    specialization;
                       ­                          the word is
an abbreviation for respecialization.