When you don the mantle of murderer
Two graves are dug.
One for your victim
And one for your soul.

People mock children for believing in Santa Claus,
And
People mock the religious for believing in God.
But
If you ask me, there is nothing wrong with believing in something
That loves you and accepts you,
Whether you believe in them or not.
That is true love.
The suspension of doubt,
And the acceptance of the love that we deserve
That is at this very moment, trying to make you believe.

Pulling a punch is a sign of strength.
Brutality can be metted out
By nearly anyone,
A straight razor or a shotgun
Does not make a man strong.
Mercy is a virtue everyone should pursue,
For the merciful are bathed in grace,
And shall understand loves depths.
Mercy spreads as a contagious infection.
Leaders provide the example
That molds the lives of those who support
As well as oppose them.
Lifting up your enemies
Is a karmic synonym for making lifelong friends.
Around the bend is a better place for all of us,
An all inclusive, in-exclusive paradise
The entrance to which lies in your hand,
The kind touch you lend,
And your willingness to make a stand
For love above all else.

Say what?
She said,
And I said
"What".
She giggled,
And I blushed under my beard,
Wrote a song for her,
And burned it in my head.
"He's a one trick pony, I said.
I was talking to myself."
I pointed at the man in question,
Gracing the tabloid cover.
She laughed,
Cascading harps
Strummed by the wind.
Red hair,
Tied back,
Pink lips,
Freckled nose,
Gold and green eyes.
The check out girl who stole my soul.

***** from the bottle,
Warm.
Hot dogs from the package,
When your down and *****
The grotesque becomes magic.
Pawning a guitar for a pellet gun,
To procure breakfast.
Squirrel stew in the back of a scamper camper.
Spotlighting bullfrogs,
And mopping floors for a hot meal,
And a cold beer,
And a sympathetic ear.
Nights when the blacktop turned into void,
And the painted lines became a tightrope to nowhere.
Full circle,
Bangor to Frisco,
Any woman who was willing to sleep in the bed of a truck
Was a queen for as long as she stayed,
Always had **** concealed on me,
The copper piece of road currency,
To the gold and silver, of *** and gas.
The exchange rates would change overnight,
But syphon some gas at a truck stop
And it all will be alright.
Misspent youth, following bands
And getting lost along the way.
***** from the bottle,
And hot dogs from the package.

I was burning in my own torture chamber,
While you baked a pie and split it with your sister.
I never walked my own path, just where I was dragged.
You think I didn't eat salt and razorblades for breakfast?
The throbbing beat that is the cadance of my death
Is inaudible to you I suppose.
If go away is your mantra.
Excuse me,
I'll let you get back to meditating.

Did what I said this morning make it through?
Who is watching us,with the book of the dead tattooed on their skin?
Will you ever let me back in your trailer?
Can you make one for me, so I can make one for you at home?
Do you remember when your bootstrap broke,
And I broke down for you...The emotional shuttle crash?
Do you remember when I told you I was bad news,
And I would hurt you, and I was arrogant too?
Do you remember how many brownie points I still owe you?
Am I still someone you want around?
Should I leave you be, and never turn back?
What do you want from me?
Can I tell you what I want from you?