I am honest
But honestly I don’t have trouble lying
I am happy
But sometimes it’s hard to stop crying
I’m a leader
But often I find myself following
I’m athletic
But I can’t really walk without falling
I’m loving
But sometimes I really don’t care
I’m smart
But not if you take time to compare
I’m organized
But I lose things at least once a week
I’m good-natured
But I’m also a complete control-freak
I’m trustworthy
But don’t worry I’ll tell you what she says
I’m me
But honestly I don’t know who that is

Led by a strange shepherd flock
In a small village near a creek
Reached at sharp twelve o'clock
With a look of a daring freak

It was one of the darkest nights
A few dim lights shown far away
It was a silent moonless sight
O' t'is what a tiresome day

Listening to the howls of the wild
I sat on a rock, to wait for daylight
A faint cry of an innocent child
Kept me awake all through the night

A cursed village some say
Located at the foot of a mountain
I hope it's not the one where I've to stay
But that one was near a fountain

'Once I get a solution to end that demon
I will have to continue this journey
To save our children and women
From the evil one, whose disciples are many'

Cold crawling up my frail veins
Like a slithering tree snake
Fog gathering like luminous pain
Over a distant lake


'How long will my village people suffer
From that ruthless false god
He is an evil demon bluffer
Who preaches false word'


'Behind the preaching, he kills for blood
A creature of the dark night
He hides the bones in the mud
Out of everyones sight'

The shepherds boy disappeared
Among the patrols on our way
Hours after he appeared
The darkness slowly faded away

The rocky path led to the old hermit
Who poses magical healing powers
It was hard to get an entry permit
But then welcomed after few hours

The hermit knew my situation
And began his weird chant
He gave me a magical potion
Which was my main want

Now to sprinkle this potion on the demon
And send him back, where he came from
Not another child or women
Shall get victimized in this wrathful storm...

©sim

I rush outside;
Curses and shouts
Reach my ear.
“****.
****-up.
Freak.
*****.”
I don’t know
Anything anymore.
These demons follow,
They tear at me,
And in the end,
I die.

A religous freak is what they called me
well i say this is not religion
this is the safety net i fall to when all other things fail
this is hope
the fuel that keeps me going
long after all of my friends have stopped
this is not religion
this is a relationship with someone who will never fail me
this
this is the never ending love i will feel till the end of time
while you spend your days feeling
empty
empty becuase wont live knowing his love
his grace
the things he does to make your life great
and dont say it isnt
because there are people out there
worse of than you
who would die to have a pair of Jordans
or any type of shoes
this is not religion
this is knowledge of whats out thier
realizing what you refuse
taking blame for what you do
instead of hating the person who tells you what you do is sin
Love the God who gives you a way back from it
he makes you whole
helps you let it all go
but no matter how much you hate your soul
he can show you love
more than you deserve
make you feel better than the drugs that leave you wanted more
or the person who leaves you crying on the floor
God will never leave you
its as simple as that
this is not religion
its the love that keeps my soul intact
keeps me whole
God will never let me go
this is not a religion
its a raltionship that only me and God know

revelation 13:3 so befitting me, a Hollywood plot:
they killed him, but he escaped -
a six round shooter with twelve bullets,
sacrilege of the theatre -
a new matthew 21:12 - expulsion
from the temple -
Jimmy 1:1 - Gaga the Leveller entered
the Hollywood factories and drove
out all who were "acting" and
modelling there. he smashed the cameras,
the props, he ******, then drank gasoline -
scratched his head and uttered:
it is done.
what do you expect?! what sort of acting
is this?! is it acting? take no. 100,
only Jackie Chan can show you excerpts
with the credits rolling, since he's his own
stunt artist - but all those other excerpts
with the credits rolling, forgetting your lines?
what is that?! if this was transformed into
a theatre the audience would be throwing
rotten cabbages tomatoes at the "actors",
Hollywood a viral infection, the only
downfall of Nietzsche was his blatant
ignorance of America, if he cited but one
American, that would be great, but he didn't.
for goodness sake, Palφ Emεrσoν, at least!
hand on my heart: i don't know what possesses
me, i know i'm paying for 10 seconds of
my own stupidity having believed a childhood
friend - but i never wished harm on anyone -
it's such an infuriating sadness, motivational,
of course, but so infuriating - perhaps if i were
normal the brain haemorrhage would be more
evident, the neurologist would not have asked
me to go outside the room when i asked
whether i was mentally ill: 'you're not, and
if someone says you are, they are mentally ill.'
so that's about six psychiatrists on red card,
a dozen people on a yellow card... imagine it:
angry sadness - i don't know what possessed me,
high on marijuana and gullible, sure, but
you're least expecting something like that,
a stranger, a homicide, i could take that, at least
the adrenaline would be there - the suddenly,
i could take that, a Hannibal Lecter whispering
into my ear about shock and ****,
but ******... that's a step up, i don't know
why the serotonin in my brain turned into
adrenaline and caffeine, this regime of not sleeping
one night, drinking myself to a lullaby the next
works well, but time elongates during the nights;
no! i don't know why i'm not a *******,
in the majority of cases people who suffer a
brain haemorrhage are crippled - i know that,
but that explains as much as the myths surrounding
Rasputin... but for ****'s sake, he was schemed
against by aristocrats... this *******
has a father who's a radiologist and a mother
who works in John Lewis at the perfume stand...
what's so ******* aristocratic about that?
it's so ****** annoying, it's as if i was purposively
spared to do something, write something,
anything... it's hardly delusional, i just
can't explain it... like i can't explain the wandering
stars in the night from time to time...
or seeing a lightning bolt without hearing
thunder... seeing the one headed Cerberus in the woods
chasing a rabbit... so many things, alone,
and all the better, the ****** U.F.O.
that was made from φosφorescent light -
my inability to write fiction, living in a country
where not a single poetry book is worth a review
in a newspaper - in a nation that prefers
waterfalls and rivers of sentencing, clear to follow,
cleanly cut, obvious, methodological,
not a whirlpool that ***** you in,
not the sea that overpowers you with
much depth, a storm and general unruliness,
just a waterfall and the easily digested plot,
predictability, a Thomas ******* Hardy novel,
fishing - some øberst-grüppenführer und
generaloberst whispers into the leader's ear:
fake the Luftwaffe attacks, dig a tunnel,
remember the Zeppelins.
you think i like this, this new personality?
cooked up in an ivory tower, hardly interested
in what i could have done prior, manual
labour on roofs? my personality changed so much
that i came to be un-bothered, launched myself
into reading philosophy - and it began with
only one word, negation, from Sartre's
being and nothingness, to my surprise i learnt
he was more than just a novelist, although
in translation from french, a pretty **** thinker.
i can't explain why i'm not crippled,
why they misdiagnosed me as schizoid,
N.H.S. short funding, couldn't get an M.R.I.
scan, had to travel to Poland to get one...
because it all looks great on the outside,
inside, a nanometre difference and pretty
much effects of global warming - remember Newton's
principle, forget this relative cause with no effect;
i mean, we can sit in this space-time parabola
for as long as we want - time happens when
space is indented, ****** obvious, no wonder
time is irrelevant elsewhere, where no physical
object resides, ask Neil Armstrong, i'm sure
he'd like to win 7 Tour de'France titles but later
have a face of a beetroot - or as all chemists say:
why did we bother? why not dope all of them?!
i mean, we've been working on enhancing
human potential everywhere, why not dope
all athletes and get it over and done with -
what's the point of science if you have one
foot in the river and one foot on dry land?
some newspaper columnist still freak out
about people protesting against G.M. foods...
well, let me tell you Jacky Sunshine, i'm
protesting against not doping every athlete,
if you can apply science to your diet, you might
as well apply science to spectator sports -
after all, if you know everyone does it,
then whoever is fitter naturally will still be
fitter with synthetic additives - as in:
we've synthesised enough things to enhance
the possibility, but when it comes to analysing
the situation, it's as if no science was ever engaged,
or if engaged, then left to rot on the scrap heap
of vanity.

I had the chance to stay alive
we ran but, I fell twice
I didn't see the one lurking at the end of my drive

It was an old one an surprised me completely
my hand went up to stop the teeth
but it sunk down on my wrist ever so quickly

I got away but now I greatly fear
that the virus will spread
maybe by a freak chance I will be free and clear

should I tell the others I start to wonder
I know if it was me I would shoot them in the head
But I am so embarrassed by my total blunder

If I lay and wait I could endanger the others
It will creep up on me and spread
My people are close we are like brothers

My life would have been saved with an amputation
My indecision has my life hanging from a thread
Now I live in total frustration.

I need to get a gun to end it all
or some way to successfully behead
right now I am up against a wall

Funny, how like
A freak she felt
Not knowing if she knew
How to love
How to give
From outside appearances
She was seen as
Quite nice –
How often deceiving
One’s appearances can be
As she lost herself
Behind a façade
Only ever seeing the
Ugliness
She hears the
Endless scream
Of her soul
No longer can she
Feel that pain
Lost, she no longer
Knows herself
She only sees
The façade
Though, deep down
She knows there must be more
She does not know how
To strip herself
Of her mask
And sorrow infuses
Her body and soul
As she seeks
A way out of the
Chains of her
Self deceit

Kelly Rose
December 27, 2015

I know we all feel it
When we find ourselves
In this situation.

A sense of peace.

It washes over us
In a cool rush.
We realize that we're alone
with our thoughts,
Our family,
Our books.

No cell service,
No gps,
No radio.
Completely.
Alone.

Some panic
without their technology
Some freak out
because they're not "connected".

I relish this peace.
I relish it with a gratitude
One that I can't find anywhere else.

Peace and quiet.

This is long overdue.
Never past its prime.
Always easily welcomed.

But the knowledge is always there
That this peace has to end
Eventually.

Just a few more minutes
Please.

I didn't have a voice- theirs were enough
I didn't reach for connections- their touch was enough
I didn't smile at the sun- their happiness took up all of the room
I didn't listen to silly stories- their tales were enough
I was labeled- freak

now their wheeling me away


blue and white lights dance in the street
facing the sky
I listen to their silence- finally
I smile- for myself
I touch my hand to the rhythm of my heart beat- I'm alive
I finally whisper, "I'm free"

The feeling of loneliness I must contend,
The knowing that the stares are those of despise.
Every bite is scrutinized by disapproving eyes,
Making me feel guilty for eating to stay alive.

They look upon me as an outcast,
A freak to make fun of when ever they like,
They don't see the hurt in my eyes.
Saying I should only be let out at night.

I am no different than the next person,
I have feelings the same as you.
Just because I am different,
Doesn't mean I don't want love to.

If only I was skinny,
And all my clothes fitted me skin tight.
I would sway down the high street,
Instead of waiting for the dead of night.

Persecuted because I was born different,
A few extra pounds here and there.
I know what people are thinking,
She's eating in public! How dose she dare.?

Sheila.

There is a part of me that loves it
when you haven't washed your hair
in four days, loves the smell of it.
There is a part of me that doesn't understand
your playful nature about ******,
but loves you for it regardless.
There is a part of me that watches you
play your video game even though I'm
pretending to be caught up in my book.

You told me that your eyes are blue
when you are happy.
I confess that at first I never noticed,
that is until the day they weren't.
Eyes like a mood ring, we are
a curious species, and you a prime
specimen of the lot.

Your weight is so slight to me, even though
you never seem to be happy with it.
Beating your hands against your thighs,
complaining that most girls aren't so
thick. I don't understand how you can't
just look in the mirror and see that you're
beautiful.
I don't understand that you can't see your
life swelling to burst, infecting the world
with laughter, and with joy.
It seems so obvious to me.

Five years into the experiment of us,
and I am utterly captivated by you.
This is not a freak occurrence, not some
strange collection of lies and comfort,
every time I see you, I can feel my cold,
cynical outlook melt into the
living, breathing, screaming word of hope
you create around you.
Your own personal bubble of paradise.

I have green eyes always. Dull and uninspired.
But you can see the storm there,
just behind these eyes, these old man's
eyes on a young man's face.
(Remember when they said that?)
You, of all people, can see through the disguise
of my eyes, you can see into the heart
of me.

I stand in awe of your movement.
Did you know that?
I suppose not. You're every move is a
miracle to me.
When I freeze, so struck by you,
I see the slow smile spread, the giddy
joy that moves from your lips to
your limbs. That compels you to
run for me, across crowded rooms,
empty hallways, and filthy bedrooms.

My god are your eyes blue today.

The story about the man
Who was so lonely
And craved human touch
That he skinned people alive
And turned them into furniture
Isn't as morbid as you thought it was
Because we humans smoke away the pain
And drink away the misery
Yet that's just as crazy as the man with a human lamp shade
Because we would rather hide in our own guilt
Than share a cup of coffee with a friend
And call the lonely serial killer a "freak"
While watching the morning news
All by yourself

Sanity
fragile

My mind devours
& cowers in place
Of reason
Of forgetting

Another Bad Day
& I'm off
& gone again
& again I can't breathe
But I have someone with me
this time
To keep at bay
what monsters
have hid away

Help me apathy
Help me hero War
Help me to be
Keep away the thoughts
the suicide
the unholy matrimony

of sanity
and the reason
beyond reason

Treason of the brain
Goes like this

Slit the froat
Go like this
Shake the breeze
Go like this
Eat the ****
Go like this
Go like ******
Go like fleas
Go Away

A mocking gesture
& words like me
Freak me out

Anxiety of today
Go like this

He always wears longs sleeves
And anyone who tries to be friendly to him
He pushes away
He isolates himself
I've never seen him with friends
I gave him my number
He didn't text me back
I wonder if there is a reason behind it all
Why he likes to live alone, in silence
I'm going on the same trip as him
Late in the year
Should I try to get into his head
Try to talk to him
And unravel him?
Break down his walls?
I'd like to try
I'm not afraid
Of finding his inner demons behind the walls
I have my own
I'm not afraid
But I'm afraid
It isn't my place
Or that he will be angry with me
For trying to melt his steel walls
If I fail
If he doesn’t let me in
Is it worth a try?
Will it seem too stalkerish
If I try to break down his walls?
It never hurts to knock
But it hurts if they open the door
Just long enough to hurt you
Then shut you out again
I don’t know
What do you think?




Please comment and let me know your opinion. I need advice on that.
He is really attractive but beyond that he fascinates me. I liked him the moment I saw him. He plays violin and basketball and I really want to get to know him but I am scared and I am worried he will freak out that I am being creepy and insistent after I gave him my number and he didn’t text me back. (Although it is unconfirmed that he owns a cellphone and I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t) I have heard of other girls who tried to talk to him but he was pretty standoffish and they all gave up on him. Should I give up too?

running, laughter, heart break, suicide, born again, hopped up, multiply, try to fly, freak of nature, loved one, skinned knee, bold as che, blood on it all, can't stop the fall, rock bottom, ocean floor, math class , chocolate girl, stumbling, feelings hurt, crying alone, worthless drone, time to go,wipe it away, skipping, flying, sleeping, hugging, yelling, screaming, thumping, stupid thoughts, drunken tears, eternal lovers, cut down trees, life, darkness, dumb stuff, broken soul, god help us all.

currently
I feel as though I should just lay all my feelings out on the table. maybe talking, well actually writing, will help serve as a release or rather a filler. some days I feel empty and other days I fill full. so many emotions to the point of feeling numb. it's like nothing's necessarily wrong but they're obviously not right either. I don't know why I'm still having a hard time. it's like I'm always on and off and on and off again. one day I'm okay the next day im practically miserable and it's all a vicious cycle that I can't get rid of. I'm a walking contradiction and I hate feeling bad but then again, I'm afraid not to. because whenever something good comes along it doesn't stay. I don't know what's wrong with me but suddenly I feel like the most horrible human being alive. I feel pathetic and worthless and full of tears that just don't have enough energy to flow. I'm not motivated. I'm here but I'm not here. I'm moving but I'm not going anywhere and suddenly i don't know what's happening. this is how it always starts. but this time I thought that i would be stronger and I wouldn't let depression and anxiety haunt me anymore but every time seems like the first but I'm just all so used to it but I can't change it. I just feel so low and alone because I am low and alone and there's no one here for me, like genuinely here for me in the way I need them to be. and I'm continuously hoping for better to come but I know once better comes it won't last. I'm just tired of feeling miserable and then feeling selfish for feeling miserable and frankly, I'm not getting enough attention and some attention would be nice right now but my mind is the only one keeping me company lately. I just freak out over the little things and I lose track of why I even got upset in the first place and I end being a complete mess. I'm turning into a complete mess and I really don't want to.

the night that
max wore his wolf suit
he swore the lycans came
and while he
hid under the bed

they prowled and growled
and howled out his name

but he stayed put
in the furthest corner
of gloom,
paralysed ....
by a feeling of
utter doom

he knew,
he was no wolf.
just boofy bloke wearing
the suit for a goof...

and as to being a hairy
werewolf...
all full of
bloodlust  and scare
he knew his head,
his heart, his soul
would not, could not,
go there....

he was if anything,
an aurilophile....
and would have worn
a cat suit....
but they, the shop of freak.

did not have any in his style,
that, being of the male
persausion.....
they had kitty
and pussycat suits
for all sorts of occasions

they had just rented,
the last tiger
and the lions had
all.... long gone.

so he got stuck
with the wolf
and thought, at the time...

what could go wrong....

now in the hours of
one, two and three...
as the lycan prowled
and yodeled love songs
he knew full well,

what could go wrong...

max and his suit
trembled.along....
waiting for the sunrise
and the light of the day
to make this dogfest,
of a nightmare,

go far far away....

then, in the bright noonday sun
he would go out to the park.

and find a stray dog
give him the suit....
or at least hide it under
a log....

then to the pub,
to down many beers,
put an acholic fence,
between
him and his fears

send the last night,
on down the stream
of all those other
fog filled...
and fuzzy freaken
dreams...

where he was a dog,
a cat or a fly.....
or where he slipped....
off a tigtrope so high

and fell with a splat....

of strawberry jam
to be scraped up from the
sidewalk and into
a jar.....

that was the worst dream
the worst by far.....

so eventually  max,
walked into the bar
ordered a beer,
strolled around for a bit
then sat in the corner......
all naked as a jay.....
or a ***.

cause in all,
the dreaming and scheming.
he had forgot one thing,

to put on some clothes.

so now, the whole
world had,
had a view of both
the front and the rear,
fishing tackle and gear...
and
it was them,
that had something to fear,
for the sight of,
the above
mentioned junk....
had put all who had seen it
into a funk....

for max's **** was a foul mouthed punk....
and as for his ar$e...
a right royal farce

some one had to say...
with courage
so as to save the day...
max ......
for god's sake
and that of my poor sainted
granny....
take this table cloth
and cover your man-*****
then,
take the other
and cover your ***'s face....
you makin my pub
a down right disgrace....

max,
smiling sheepishly,
did as was said
and apologised profusely,
for having lost his head
... and normal,
day to day attire...
took a six pack,
for the road, on the slate
....and went on home
and back to bed...
to meet,
with drunken bravado,
his all hallows fate.....

I kissed daniel because
he made me feel like a little girl
and that's all I've ever wanted to stay.
I kissed him because
he made me feel like a live wire,
ready to sizzle
and pop
and maybe **** someone.
We can only hope.
I kissed him hard,
I kissed him wet
so I could feel the spit
break between our lips.
I kissed him good
and fast against the wall.
I kissed him goodnight
I kissed him good bye

2. He got me so high I coughed and drool came out of my mouth and
his friend asked
"hey.... Um are you okay?"
And I shook my head no,
but they didn't really care anyway.  And I walked down the long hallway in my tiny shorts so they could both see the sway of my ***,
the sway in the walk of someone
who has gone entirely mad.

3. Daniel said 37 is his last real year before he hits middle age.
And he's halfway through it.
And I'm turning 19 next month
and he says that's where the real fun is cause that means I've had a year
of adulthood to figure my **** out
and I've still decided to be a *****.
He says 19 will be my real slutty year, the year I turn this bag of meat
and bones into a **** star.
He says I'll always be the best.
He says I'll make it real real big.
He says he will watch me
******* another man while he's ******* someone else
in the next town he goes to

4. Daniel said I was evil.
I told him he was a horrible person and he pinned me down
and did the things horrible people do.
I asked him why he thought I was evil and he said he can see it in my eyes. Real cold and mean,
oh **** it's a real nice gleam.
Like sharpened knives and laughter when a chalkboard screeches.
He says I'll die within next year if I keep living like I am.
I guess he doesn't believe me
when I say I just really don't care.

5.
Bad girl bad girl sad girl they say.
Like how I can't make eye contact
and malls freak me out.
How I don't care how fast I drive my car cause I've got places to be,
like nowhere.
Knives don't scare me,
in fact,
cut me so I can show you how good
I am at not flinching.
Pull my hair and
pin my down and
I'll show you a good time babe,
cause this feels like love if
you're good enough at pretending. They call it self destruction,
I call it preservation.

How I don't remember is something for laughs
That I don't remember kissing that pretty little lass
But waking up feeling like I had been making out for hours
Is something that truly makes me grin

That next morning my head was in a spin
The feeling of what I had done, but no memory to come
Or at least til later that afternoon
When that brief memory floated back to mind
I bust a gut laughing until my head was fine

The next thought to come
Was how exactly did this happen
What on earth had gone on
To make this long time crush
Straddle high, and get her freak on

A sort of flashbulb memory taking place that night
Leaving much to be questioned, and few if any answers
First, texting one girl saying her place in my heart was secure... blank
Second, locking lips with Miss "Who Do We Have Here?"... blank
Third, Miles feeding me was, though my mouth tastes like ***** and beer.
Absolutely illogical, this has got to be some big joke, crazy and weird

Dear God, or anyone who's listening
Please let me track down this girl to question
I don't even care for another repetition
Simply put, I'm going to ask, "How the hell did we get in that position?"
Hopefully she can and will fill in a good deal of all that's missing.

And I get to fall on my *** laughing.

Tied me down
To the ground
Took what you wanted
Called me a **** and

You slapped me
You beat me
You hated me
You ***** me

Then left me alone
Because, as I know
Once you were done
I was no one

Now you come looking back
With the same feeling slap
Your troubles in life
Don't excuse giving me strife

It's over you freak
Just leave me be
This time I won't defend
Your *** you ****-head

Leave me the **** alone
Or the past will be shone
I'll send you to jail
And trust me, you'll fail
Even if you're a 'kid'
From you I'll be rid
You're still older than me
So who will courts believe?

You better get out
Take this with no doubt
You'd better believe
So stop ******* with me

Please

2 melanized hueman beings mesmerized by the beauty of their interior extending to the exterior shells
falling under one another's enchanting spells
Time was frozen the room grew still but the eyes spoke their own language in silent yearnings of screams and yells
becoming each others eye witness
Treasuring  each other temple of sacredness
Exploring their magical majestic nakedness
Both unapologetically shameless
Igniting a fire, So passionate yet flameless.
Infecting each other with love as if it was an air borne illness, quite contagious.
Feeling the wondrous Joys of  unfiltered bliss
Picture This ...
The natural beauty the 2 shades of Brown pigmented bodies shimmering as nuggets of Gold.
2 magnificent souls are as a flower in the spring ready to unfold.
The energy flowed,
True feelings get exposed
And they both glowed.
In the darkness of unlit room was the bride and Groom, Taking turns radiating similar to the sun and and the moon.
All 3 eyes are open wide.
As both of their worlds collide.
they drink of each others water fountain flowing from inside
their fleshy beings have died
their hearts cried
their minds wonder
The Temperature was hotter than the summer
She began to stutter words she can hardly utter
while he was captivated by this wombman he called "Earth mother "
  Telling her he loved her and he would place no one else above her.
  As the sound of their pulses and hearts were beating like a drummer.
Its was something more than *** that both had to discover
From the moment her touched her,
Revealed was their true colors.
She become him and he became her,
Reflections of one another.
Going pass what Was Happening under that black silk cover.
their spirits elevated high, ascending into the sky,
she bites her lip as he kisses her thick inner thighs,
She is intoxicated from his testosterone and from the sweet smell of her pheromones he gets high.
They close their eyes for a brief moment as their minds escape and their spirits tell this earthly world Goodbye.
He taste the delicious juices overflowing from her yonnie As she screams out, "Oh Papi".
Needing him so badly.
Falling in love with every bit of him, Madly.
He takes his Royal Phallus and places it gently inside of her Royal palace.
Reaching Heaven Bliss with Every single ****** and every single sensual kiss. Their hearts are pounding like the sound of the fist banging against the wall so loudly.
He was climbing her mountain till she reached a peak at her valley.
Both have become vulnerable and open.
Then she pleasures him until she starts chokin, Chokin on the words left unspoken.
Understanding the words they don't speak because the connection between them is unique.
As the slows jams are on repeat, she sits on his face like a seat until she gets tingles all over her body and feel weak so then he flips her over and dives in to her sacred waters so deep.
Praying that this is a treasure he hopes to keep. Placing her legs around him while making the bed squeak
moving to the rhythm of the beat unleashing the soft moans of her inner freak.
Grasping  a handful of  bodacious, firm, and soft **** cheek.
The juices again began to seep.
Reaching high levels of intimacy so deep.
Time has stop and their souls sprung a leak. Finding out the truth about one another that they have found the love in which they both seek.
Such a sweet treat!
He has swept her off her feet and She had him feeling like she was that missing piece to the puzzle making him feel whole again as if he was once broken but now complete.

Stop freaking out,
People have to come to terms with these things.
One breath can calm you down,
Just breathe.
No one's restricting your windpipe.

Do not speak to Me...
With the words you never Seek...
With the ideas from the Weak...
You hold no Key...


Do not speak to Me...
If you do not wish to be a Freak...
With the words that you Shriek...
You beg and you Plea...

Take an arrow to the Knee!
Your existence is too Bleak!
Hide under your Shadow!
In the oblique dark Sea...

I do not Care...
About your Uncertainty...
Until you can Develop...
Your own *Maturity...

Do you feel sad?
Are you okay?
Are you alright?*

...do you really want to know?
Perhaps I should fill you in.
After all I'm filling to the brim
with repressed emotion, why not
make a rotation,
for your private freak show.

Go ahead and try to demean me.

I don't feel sad,
I feel worse.
I am filled with the
emptiness of
humanity.
Trapped within this
bubble of skin.
I am still disconnected,
unattached,
'free'.
I am, frankly, desolate.

I'm not okay.
My ****** functions
may
lie normal,
my vitals may be
strong,
but I am not 'okay'.
Who are you to say,
just what constitutes okay?
My life may seem fantastic
to you, but hiding
my emotion
is nothing new to
me. I am, after all, an
expert you see.
Why can't you just allow me to
be? without ripping to show
that which makes me
me.

I will never be alright,
this tight ball of
anxiety is
lodged in my throat
an invisible moat
separates me from
the ones my loneliness longs
to reach.
I am beached, on the shores
of my mind.
Desperately hoping for
someone to find me,
desperately hoping that this
time, their actions will
be kindly.

Stop asking questions
you've already made an
answer too.
Don't attack me for showing
weakness, this rot
goes deeper than you will
ever know.
Allow me time to sew the smile
on my face, to deface the battle scars
I should wear with pride.

Unlike you, I wear my medals inside.

I am strong, and I've had to be
for longer than you will ever know.
And, without your 'sympathy' I shall
continue to grow.

I shall be better than you will ever see.

Axt would I, I sed yah soyam

Signing a song played in the white noise that surrounds me

nights like these past 7043,

Who chounted en chant em, enchantemgood

So no we are at what is a befinning place.
beginning (90's too ****, U2 too Northern Euro,
Green Day, Coolio,
Noise to a message dying to be heard
welcome to another
imaginary garden in an ever expanding mind

field of unthinkable things,
back then

we have whiteout but it doesn't work here

My culture had near simultaneous eruptions of supermarkets

and Fords.

This guy, his culture had near simultaneus disruptions of progress and
interruptions of information
some os were lost in the middle synchrony
instance if I cationic plus or minus
simaltan

Oh, I get it. You, dear reader, have been
out of it.
We went public with the entire plan for public
key distribution,
through six palanced stacks of energy stores

Chakra, chi, science make ya think eh. Polarize, see

everything groovy --no
[contemprayery idle intense ify AI keep us current]

lie, good, no lie is always safe. Don't wanna stumble any souls.

I was mentioned, my being a speaker in a story, I was said
to have said something, upon a time,
on the cover of the Rolling Stone,

I witnessed a lie being told and said my ears weren't garbage cans,
like a brainwashed culty.

no, **** I was a cultivated follower of a confessed
follower cultivator.

I bloom when I imagine being treated as a mushroom,
I never paid much attention,
I never felt
insane
but
I can imagine
wee whatifs crept in… aha

The Olde Deluder, Satan, Act

that, a tiny gleam, a single ATP gone ADP

but there was light. A story I lived is now being told
without me,
oy vey Jah knowaddamean.

There was a wiseman, who,
by his wis-dom saved a city, and no one knew
that same wiseman's name,

proverbs are intentional games, the rules,
hiding a thing, done by God, glory ifies him
seeking out a matter, done by a being translated king,
transmutes that seeking into honor

Honor is hard to compare to the war flavored twists,
knots and tangles where woof and warp held

long long long before war was imagined, honor was.

A medal of honor for valor, what does it mean?

Leonard Wood got one. For his part in solving
the Apache problem.
He also,

Flash I had my wires crossed, in a way, it may
enlighten.
You see, I had thought that I had read Leonard Wood,
be cause I had imagined he was in New Jersey, but that
was Lord Amherst, Jeff

He tweerted ( wrote in a letter on paper we've a fact simile):
"to try Every other method that can serve to Extirpate this Execrable Race."

From <https://www.umass.edu/legal/derrico/amherst/lord_jeff.html>

Could be the source of the whole shores of triple ease retirement lure/trap/moneymoneymoney makeit fakit

I asked once, who's to blame and whose to blame,
samesame came an answer, I sware, quick as

next, twixt being and being possible,

realize

we do change things, in time, which,

if we can agree, is limited for us,
to now, no thens behind

mere, mere, mere ifs and whens ahead

be

--so there's been music all along
life's the song

skip a decade, like skippin' a grade

grad Harvard at a prepubescent 12

If I had a Hammer time, one message

one valiant try to be will smith,

Live and Learn, old man, say the dude on the radio
in he's hammaheadphones, cain't touch

Bomb. Jesus lent me Jael's hammer,
radioman nailed it.

If I had a hammer was the prayer,

MC, he was the Godsmacked nail in the coffin

Dark inside gothish messages hurgle and gurgle
guts twisted in freak pride love hate list lust

dichotomies of choice in ever learning
good citizenship worth honor and glory

of the sort men dare to die for, facing darkness,
the NULL set ***** and ***** and *****

This ain't gravity tuggin me,
this is that monster who lives forever in top forty radio

When/then Radioman emerges, Like the Mighty Quinn from

deep beneath Gibson's darkest ever imagined ICE wall…

What's on? (ellipses, do those mean POV shift or selah?)

I forget, s still all alchemistry t'me, if allyagots ahammass,

realize, if it matters, t'me, bubble bustin' need no nail.

I gotti'd a hamma, gonna hamma in the moan

O.G., mighty man of valor, where'dyew arise from?

We, the integrated us, non autonomous, inarrogant
We were dancin' to that I'm a Loser, Baby

so why don't cha killme, knowwad i'msayin

This old man been wandern in the desert far far far
side the madding crowd
making minced
meet
broken spirit. we goin together to a re-pair place

at the center of you'n'all you know, your bubble but

--- everlearning everclear outlawed, good lawed
--- moon shine spiritment lauded out loud
--- the world all ways works when a garden is

beyond the pale,
Irish
rye whiskey, wheat bread liqui
if I were an
old gay ninties guy drinking ***** laudnum
singin'

on the corner with the hourus girl's

Making the Con Next Ion, watchathank,
is it The Nineties A to Z , ending wit, it’s a hard
knawks life, or

a Bohr-TED talk or
a video of Schrödinger's  
verdamte dead cat?

Or am I surrounded by so great acloud of witnesses that some times I spend

simply hummin' along, life's beat me to the ground,

which gladly,
I'm so glad, I'm glad, I'm glad which

loses its meaning if you never experienced such a fall
ending in absorption of it all.
Ginger Baker, slam that cymbal, CRASH!

Life, in every key, there's a clue. Some where,
there's a lock on a true thing we need

to, eventually, know all things.

Keywords lost givitawaygivitawaygit it back tenfo'

Black spirit-filled tongue talkin' grandpa friend of
Johnny Walker, Red not Black,

He challenged me ye see. I recall what was on TV.
Nixon sayin' he,
honest he,
anti-****** he,
bombin' invadin; he, was Notacrook, the super hero
he imagined

Bio is building energy, all the time does is
test the effort.

Is life lived this way worth the effort?
if/then/else

Who chose, integrated me, all the masks and voices I have accepted as ideas that can have apiece of me.

BTW, kids, even if an angel of light asks you to take a little piece of my heart, don't

yer killin me and I know where the next story started,

you are lost without me, fretnot, I'm the way

I heard that, that's no claim I mist'tok as my response.

Deeper, are we absobbing any thing, deeper tincture
of time, t'me see

POV
SameYesTodayForever (SYTF) protocols have been in place,
as far as we know,

since words made sense naturally, eons ago, at least.

If you want my future, then forget my past
musing medium messages sayin

what the hell? A game, you sayin' life's a game?

Ja, was oder vice nicks versus universal soldier godlet

Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry

I woulda danced with wolves to have changed
one mind that followed me

beyond that point,
no return, is such a mortal POV, you see
as far as you cansee

Deep. the gem. all the meaning ever was was
in that gem.

Dare me for no reason? Is that reasonable,
ration my tears to test my mettle

I went mad in 1995, have I made that plain?
Things crumbled around me for ten years,

I was helped by hoping I knew a truth about those
manifested imaginary gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and
the meaning of every mystery unknown to man

eh, say again
gems
given kings and potentates
said to possess great powers and the meaning OhGEE
the every mystery unknown to man

lies lies lies they all were lies lies lies lies

I told you so, and it is still sweet to say
you know

You heard it all before, greatest test story ever told.
That was no test.
this is.

Jump when I jump, remember… don't cry

Epic stories deserve more than mere words,
but, you know, click,

words are what we make things from.

Tell me your stories,
she woulda seemed to whisper, woulda drained me, drownd me
in just if I'd love linked

to the money machine of your dreams

had I not rode the grey dog outa Nashville,
back in '82,

I'da missed seein' flyover country that feels like mine,
when I take this POV.

There's this stigma that being mentally ill isn't equivalent to being physically ill.
And I just wonder how can that be, because they both seem like a sickness to me.
Who taught you that a chemical imbalance in the brain is the medical way to say that you're insane?
Who taught you that being too tired to will yourself out of bed is only  because you're lazy?
Who taught you that having mixed emotions essentially means you're crazy.
Who taught you that starving yourself because you think you look fat is seeking for attention.
Who taught you that you're exaggerating if you say you have depression.
Who made you so blind that you couldn't see all the struggling people around you.
Simply because mental illness isn’t as easy to spot as something like the flu.

Because you can't see it and because you can't catch it, it doesn't mean that it's not there.
I mean you can't see or touch it but would you say there's no such thing as air?
You can't see it or touch it but would you say there isn't wind.
And if you are a believer you can't see God or touch him but you still believe he exists.
So then why do you need evidence and proof to think that mental illnesses are real issues.
Why do you think it's people over exaggerating, what if it happened to you.

Mental illness is so common but it's treated as if it’s some rare disease.
It’s in your friend groups, your household, your school, all around but unseen.
A major problem for the LGBTQ plus.
Yet people always question why they’re making such a fuss.

When you are bullied and assaulted for who you love and how you dress, it’s no wonder this leads to unmanageable stress.

Why do you have to have a bad cold or a stomach bug to be sick enough to skip school?
What if waking up in the morning takes all the energy out of you?

But no, cause it can't be seen, it's not a valid excuse.
But oh, when it leads to death then you wonder how you never knew,
how you could tell or why they never even tried to come to you for help.
And some even say it was a dumb thing to do because there were people willing to help all around you.

But it's not that easy to know when you can reach out and not be treated like a freak.
You just can't tell these days when your mental health issue will be treated seriously.
And that's because we talk about these afflictions like jokes in our lives every day.
We use them so casually, we don't realize the full impact of what we say.

When you jokingly say, "**** me now," because you're a little stressed
And when you jokingly say that you're so depressed you just want to go home and cut.
Someone around you might be thinking the same thing except they're serious.
When you tell your buds to toughen up because men don't cry,
They have no one to reach out when everything is going wrong in their lives.

They put on a mask to live their life,
They pretended to be happy to hide their strife.
Putting on a smile to cover their tears.
Making jokes to hide their true fears.

Just because my physical body seems to be working fine,
doesn't mean that I feel okay in my mind.
Because you can't see where I'm hurting or where the pain is,
doesn't always mean that I'm fine.
And even though you might not see it, mental illness is still there.
And it should be treated that way or the stigma that it's not real will always be here.

I close the door on you once more just like before
When you chose my prose and left me so morose
With a critique so antique it made me feel a freak
And a monster can't foster child with good posture
Even offsetting such upsetting features with writing
Of wonders beyond measure for blunders are forever
In eyes of a god, what surprise at the rise of this fraud,
Automatic to cry, just a gimmick, Sorry and pathetic
These words must be to beautiful birds with fortitude
Enough to crash the gates and smash the plates
Rich hooligans do feast upon fins of beast and fish
In comfortable style I rumble and perspire from fire
Within my soul, trouble staying full, double time this lull-
abye, goodbye peach of my eye who makes my heart awry.