Poem 4
I'm going to give this context by starting off reading my old match and pof profile. This is genuinely real.

It's always hard to know what to say on these things so I'm just going to fill my profile with exaggeration and nonsense.
I would describe myself as a cross between Brad Pitts character in fight club and a sensitive fireman who likes kittens. Overall I'm pretty awesome. Kind, intelligent, hilariously funny, better in bed than a mug of cocoa. I'm a bit of a geek really. As a kid I just used to love drawing and watching cartoons. I have a ten year old golem figure which is still in its box. It's ok though. It's multiposable. I grew up on a farm. If you go back far enough there are signs of inbreeding. Which is cool because I've got extra fingers to tease you with.
I had two lizards when I was little. Their names were e's and whizz after the pulp song e's and whizz which was apparently about drugs. Lizards aren't like drugs. They're just different. You can't take a lizard to get high. You could possibly try it with the right kind of frog but licking a lizard just makes you look weird. Plus if you tried to swallow one I suspect it would get stuck in your throat. The lizard wouldn't like that. Plus you'd probably get done for animal cruelty but it's ok because you'd have the excuse that you were just smacked off your t**s on Lizard. Anyway, these lizards kind of melted. This was real, not because I was on drugs. I didn't really know about drugs back then. I hadn't licked a lizard. Lizards aren't like drugs anyway, but we've already covered that, it's a bad analogy. Anyway, it was kind of sad watching them, I think I over heated the tank or something. But they had a happy life before that, I looked after them.
I think it's kind of an analogy for life though. You can spend your life worrying about your lizard. Buying it all the right food and keeping the temperature just right. But then you never really enjoy your lizard because you're too busy thinking about its food and it's heat. So, the alternative is that you just get on with things. Enjoy your lizards, crank up the heat and see what happens. I think life is better like that. Not for lizards though. Mine melted. You've got to keep their temperature right. It was a bad analogy.  

Yes, I'm still single... But on to the poem

An ode to online dating - AKA online dating is a lizard in a tank

When you go online, you're  a lizard in a tank
On your own in empty online spaces
Your pea sized brain has drawn a blank
From all the empty, passing faces
As this one passes she gives a grin
She taps your buttons, turns up your heat
Your eyes rotate, step foot to foot
You hope that she'll dip her hand in
Frill your neck and show you want to meet
But she swipes to the rabbit coz he's got a cute ****.

Some "customers" just go to look
Some are scared that lizards bite
Some of them, their nerves are shook
By a previous lizard fight
Some wonder whether they should buy
But think they might get something better
Some buy, then put you on the shelf
Some people think you're worth a try
But switch for something to make them wetter
Makes me reflect upon myself

People are creatures led my habit
Distracted by your Lizard brain
Looking for someone to share your maggot
To change your colours, You try in vain

My frustration is 2 things
1. People expect everyone to be the same
2. You get dragged into meeting an expected role

Muscles, protection, hair, humour, genuine, confidence, normal, drive, good job, nice clothes, nice house, nice car, nice things

Beauty, slim, eyes, *******, legs, ****, no baggage, easy going, don't argue, work hard, play hard, independence, no shame

What if everyone doesn't have to be the same and going for what you always go for gets you what you always got? I've got no answers to it all.

I'm going to buy a lizard instead.

He asked about me in the first meeting.
he was so curious to know the whole time, we were talking.
what should I tell, what should I hide?
my life is so confusing it never was a joyride.

being emotional, I end up hurting.
I am not the one who loves flirting.
believe in giving all or nothing
every time it's easy for me to trusting.

failed so many time yet not learning,
As soon as I become comfortable life starts turning.
got ditched so many times still friendly.
Always fall in Pitts more than deadly

Low in confidence, thinking negative.
serve myself for people to take benefit.
knowing yet not doing anything for the betterment
world is moving fast and talk about empowerment.

with all these flaws I still, love myself
those who cheat will pay themself.
I won't change, I never become you.
will always be loyal and to myself true.

Charlie Chaplin, set the pace
Buster Keaton, old stone face
Groucho and the brothers Marx
Margaret Dumont for some sparks
Harold Lloyd, The Brothers Ritz
Did I mention Zazu Pitts?
Stan and Ollie, Keystone Cops
Chases that just wouldn't stop
The Stooges, Larry, Curly, Moe
and then theres Shemp and Curly Joe
Bing and Bob, and Dean and Jerry
Two could sing, while two made merry
Bud and Lou and who's on first?
Harry Langdon and Charlie Chase
I think who is on first base
Mabel Normand and Mack Swain
Always tied before the train
Pie fights, slapstick in black and white
This was when we laughed all night
Mack Sennet, Roach, and Our Gang
Spanky and Alfalfa sang
Words were twisted, spun and turned
People splashed and others burned
Remember back to days of yore
To when they had you on the floor
Rembember Baby Rose Marie
She started at the age of three
Many more could make the list
For many I know that I missed
Make 'em laugh and take a pie
Get sprayed with seltzer in the eye
Go and watch their films again
So comedy will always reign
Thank you to the funny folk
Who taught us how to take a joke....

She was a friend of Amber Clark
You know, you've met her before
She's the girl who listens secretly
To Bach behind the door
The Closet Classic ******
Who wears shirts of the Ramones
But listens to Rachmaninov
whenever she's alone

Jennifer McSweeney
known by all upon the street
She had kind words for everyone
She liked everyone she'd meet
She ate meals at Giannis
Knew the Pawnbroker, Old Cy
She listened to the bluesman
Whenever she came by

Like all the folks upon the street
Jennifer was dark
Not gothic, but you could say grey
She was set to make her mark
She was going to be famous
Her face upon the Silver Screen
She was going to be a movie star
Like The Truck Stop Beauty Queen

Jennifer loved movies
Not the ones that can be found
At the local dvd store
She liked the movies without sound
Her little quirk was that she
Liked the movies from the start
They told tales in black and white
These were strong in Jenni's heart

Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd
Fatty Arbuckle, and more
Zasu Pitts, Charlie Chase
They struck her to her core
L and H, The Keystone Kops
She loved to see them grapplin'
But none of these compared to her
deep love for Charlie Chaplin

The Cineplex would show a film
They would host a special week
When silent movies were the shows
When nobody did speak
Jennifer would take the time
To watch each film they showed
She was so happy when the week came round
She positively glowed

The kids she knew, all thought her odd
Because of what she liked
But, when the silent week was here
Jennifer was psyched
One year she went to the next town
To get a small tattoo
It was all done up in black and grey
It was what she had to do

Like other girls who have been inked
It was in the same place
But, it was little, very non descript
Of her favorite actors face
She told few friends about it
And though she never did get violent
If you laughed at her tattoo
Like Chaplin, she'd be silent

She kept it to herself most times
Her little bit of ink
As she aged she'd show it more
For the cost of just one drink
She would take them to her bedroom
And by the light of her small lamp
She would show her tattoo proudly
Chaplin....her little ***** stamp

It's the thing that she is known for
She's the girls with Charlie's face
Where others all have Chinese Words
She has Chaplin in this place
She is known for loving movies
In black and white, and though it's camp
She gives a whole new meaning to
Having a ***** stamp.

I'm Bored in Brighton
Can't you see?
I'm locked here in this mansion
with just my family.

I'm Bored in Brighton
Yes, I've traipsed the streets
From Church to Bay to Hampton
I've jogged along the beach!

I'm Bored of Brighton
The Daimler's in the drive
The staff? Well they've just up and gone
All this to stay alive?

I'm Bored of Brighton
The twins are going mad.
And Rupert? Rupert's all a-moan
It's just so terribly sad!

I'm Bored of Brighton
The cavoodle looks a fright!
O heck! O no! It can't be so!
My Lulu's ...they're slightly tight!

I'm Bored with Brighton
You people are the pitts!
Try Lockdown in a high rise
And don't give us the pip!

When I was a kid,
And I mean when I was a kid
I had a dream
It was a very profound dream,
You'd never think a mere kid could even have these thoughts

Over the years this dream just dissipated into dust
After a while there wasn't even dust
It had become a forgotten memory
Force subdue harsh punishment for existing
Until even the forgotten forgot it

Before long it had began to crumble
As it finally understood that it would never see the light of day again
That it would forever soak in the pitts of hell
Falling apart then burning to ashes
So in a dark corner it sat

Not that there was a light to began with
It cried in sorrow hoping that it would get lucky and be saved
That even possibly the forgotten remembered it
Days, months, then years past
And still it sat in a dark corner burned to a crisp

It comes to prove that even dreams have dreams
A desire to be simply fulfilled
Is that too much to ask
To be complete
And die only to be reborn in another kid

For what reason should I give a ****
Should I tell you what has been on my mind
For what reason should I listen to you
When you ignore everything I say

You play this game that manipulates my life
Then want to get mad at me when my life finally crumbles
When I finally become depressed because my mind can't handle the torture
For what reason do you pretend to give two ***** about me

You make me sick and tired of being alive
Because every thought in my head is that of you telling me I can't
And I know can't but I still try to thrive
Only to dive six feet deeper into the solid ground

I've gone so far down now that I can feel the firey pitts of hell burn my *** to ashes
And it hurts but I cannot cry because I still fear what you think of me
So I pretend not to give a **** when a **** is all I have to give
Because the ***** been burned long before I got to this point

So I laugh knowing that the blood of ******* would spued out my mouth
But just like everything else you ignore that as well
And it enrages me until the point the light in my life ceased to exist
So I end up sitting alone in another lonely night

Can't you open your eyes for not five second
Just see my true sorrow that I don't even hide
Hear my cries of me begging please notice please notice
Please notice me I beg thee

I've become so weak I crawl instead of walking
I'm too tired to eat,Too hungry to sleep
I just don't know what to do anymore
Yet there you are turning your back to as you always have

So why should I give a **** anymore
Though everything is on my mind
Why should I listen these days
When these days are the ones that have finally broken me

I don't care anymore
I can't care anymore
I'm done for
Goodbye world

We could talk for eternity.
If me and her were in the pitts of hell doomed to suffer the eternal flames and pain,
it'd be okay because we would just talk.

Time slips by like a knife through soft butter when we talk

We could talk about how we say talk instead of speak because it sounds more ...Whats the word..

then we'd talk about finding the word and how words sometimes slip by just as time does

I feel her, not physically
but mentally.
She teaches me lots and i teach her not as much.
I like to understand her.
It makes me feel happy when she smiles and i like it when she is excited and when she shouts a little too loud.
I like it because we dont ever think about how long we've been talking for ; it just happens.

Sometimes we just sit in silence and stare.
But its okay because we understand eachother.
We feel eachother.

Thats why i like talking to her.

.
                            Drinking
                          ­beer from a
                       bucket is illegal
                      in St. Louis.  Slee
                       ping on a fridge
                       is illegal in Pitts
                       burgh. Sporting
                       a "goatee" is  ill
                       e g a l    in   Bo s
                       t on.     Fishing i
                       n your pajamas
                       is illegal in Chic
                       ago. It is  illegal
                       in Globe Arizon
                       a to   play  cards
                       with a Native A
                       merican. Playin
       g an instrument         with the inten
    tion of luring  some   one  into  a  store
     is Illegal in Indian     Wells  California
        It is   illegal   to         peel an orange
           in a hotel roo             m in LA

I have been marooned in this ****** up place for 13 years
Ever since I was 5 when I first tried to survive
But only ended up dying in the firey pitts of hell
Got shot twice in the chest and once in the head
As I drowned in a pool of my conscious blood
I can feel the walls coming down upon me
The ground collapsing beneath me
So I scream at the top of my lungs for help
But no one ever comes or they do but just stare
As I cried blood tears from my jet black eyes
Why won't you help me
You see me struggling to gasp for air but you just stare
For what...sigh
My life is ****** up but I don't want to die
Though to the world I already have,in my mind I am still alive
Can't you see that I am trying to smile
Trying to not cry anymore
I just really want to survive this cold war
Please allow me to experience no more

its hard letting it show and getting a hold
of emotion when letting go, or moving on
when all you gots self help knowing anyone else,
you vent to will give an apathetic yawn

So I record this for those who hoard this
same fear and board it needing strength
stress so enormous aborted is storage of gorgeous  
dreams resorted to feelin horrid for lifes length

It can be a struggle drowning in tear puddles
as trouble, less than subtle doubles to attack
And every stride doesn't abide or Coincide as snakes
rise, til your tries of going forward flies back

To square one, and in life rare is fun thats
fair to none, we were taught
Or told,so be bold in lifes cold and hope as you get old
youll get to hold the gold you sought

and ill be first confessing how distressing
and depressing life is, so less interesting to you
is being targets, and seeing how charmless the  
arm pitts of lifes hardships are, but true

is how we grew from it, learning to control
frustration when we lost and had to let go
teaching us the cost of a loss, and to cherish what we got  
before we do not, and learn as a whole

to fight it off dont write it off, from a loss, like
calling a cough fatal but a slump confuses
so we sacrifice triumph for lumps concluded
when at most it was only bumps and bruises

But the more humps eluded
The less theyre found to be intrusive
And lack of experience separates the greats
from the ignorant fake and stupid

Transforming Translucent to Lucid
Helping the disapproved prove its
Only movement with motivation will prove an
approved transformation to see improvement

Recycling for beneficial Accruement
so positioned positivity surrounds my proximity
Ignore judgement given with no realistic vision  
like religion and ****** Proclivity

Cuz alive and well is vocal Bigotry
Don't let it lead to Social misery
Nothing but insanity and vanity can come
from some dumb boastful imagery

Just concentrate on denying timidity
All u need is a path spacious for clarity
Be honest with yourself, embrace its sincerity
to trump the negatives of bein an Auspicious Rarity

And soon the limitations will dissipate
and'll incubate prematurity from the womb
so the happiness it Impedes will now lead with speed
and feed whats conceived and leave you immune

to The sadness that presumes to bloom and consume
the needed room to emphatically feel free
Sometimes the mentality of normality is just a fallacy
to stop empowering the masses but we

need To dissemble what resembles self hate
its poisonous to our mental plot  
so fight like you were a ****** blow addict
against psychosomatic havoc reeking thoughts

Of conformity when normalcy lives In abnormal
habitats, and almost extinct is average acts of affection
to ones self cause, and ones doubts'll come out as we
figure out, true perfection lies in imperfection

and that visions the driven means of conception
who we are, what is given and what will be
And evidentially this entity essentially will remedy
being our own enemy then eventually proceed

To prove as key, and all we ever need
To be secure, and to assure our second guessin
can be denied and die as no longer are we tied to  
what insecurities imply forcing us to question

If our quests less our own invention
as we are stuck restin' in a direction
Thatll leave us stressed and left in debt to our
future set, hoping to avoid collections

Cuz the confidence to believe we wont regret
is needed, while perusing
dreams seen as too far or too hard from where
you are but so is anything worth doing

So don't hesitate to pass and move on from a past
that knocked you off your path on your ***
Just continue this rat race or waste what awaits
as you erase manifestation to grasp

what destiny had, so Let go, and move on,
being victorious maybe laborious, but it'll help
emit the enriched bliss fueling you to dismiss
doubt amidst lifes struggles and finding out
  
that if you Learn from mistakes, and shake the self-hate
that makes you controlled by fears based  
on statistical outcomes, that say to out run the high
risk, but when you are faced

with a mirror showing the face of
your raised self doubt, dont mask it
cause within us is both the magic to pass it or the
havoc traffic of our doubts to help end tragic

so act drastic and grab it, hold the mirror that
mirrors doubts and grasp it
then **** residule subliminal doubt, of this cynical
criminals habitual ritual as you smash it

Cause confidence is needed to believe in what we do
and who we are while perusing
dreams that seem too far from where we are or too
hard but ..so is anything worth doing

Allison Kimmey had said that Nobody is fat. We all have it. Some just a bit more than others.

But me. I have too much. Im tired of looking in the mirror trying to convince myself that I am beautiful. How can I just stand there and lie to myself while I'm terrified of my reflection.

Pictures. Doesn't everybody have some. My pictures are aweful. They deserve to be thrown in the firey pitts of dispair.
Dispair. I have so much. It fills my body to the brim and flows out by my feet. Filling the room slowly as I drown in my own saddness.

Self esteem. Everybody has it. Except me. My self esteem has plumitted to its grave so long ago. When those pretty girls called me ugly. When that cool boy called me fat. Everytime I had to look at the size tag on my shirt and it read extralarge. Because I'm just and extralarge girl arnt I.

And just because I have accepted I'm fat doesnt mean it still doeasnt hurt. Just as a man who has accepted he will die still feels that cold running through his veins as if frost were replacing the blood that was spilling out on the pavement.

Every heavy step I make gives a thud sound reminding me of my wieght. Reminding me of the truth.

Hearts. Mine is sick. My heart bears too much. Now let's forget about the heart conditions it holds for a second. And look a bit deeper. Past the scars it holds from judgment too. Past the open wounds from everytime I've lied to myself. Everytime my friends lied to me. Let's go into the deepest darkest place in my heart. The core. Where it's the pride there. You know. The only thing keeping my heart beating. The pride in myself. Though very little, I still have just a bit left.

It tells me to cut. Because only the weak give up. Only the weak die. And I am not weak. I am fat, I am ugly, I am hurt. But I am not weak. Therefore I live. Maybe not the way people want me to. Maybe the scars on my leg and wrist are as ugly as me. But that's okay. Because I'm still alive.

The dispair I'm drowning in is still there, but I found an air bubble of hope. And it won't last me long. I know that. But I have the hope now. Just because of my pride telling me I am not weak. And that is why I live.

But then, the deppression that I thought I had deafeted saw me. And it said that it was never gone. It was always there. And it reminded me that I don't know how to be happy. I've been this way my whole life. It tells me that I don't know how to smile on my own. I fake a smile whenever I know I'm supposed to be happy. When I'm supposed to laugh. I hide behind the mask I made. Because I am afraid. I don't know how to smile. How to laugh. I have to fake it all and it kills me on the inside.

What is happiness. I wouldn't know. Because I am taking my last breath before I'm lost in my dispaire again. The hope is gone and my pride is crushed. What is left to keep my heart beating now?

Lies. The lies I tell myself everytime I have to look at that disgusting thing in the mirror. This is my lie.

"No one is fat. They just have fat. Some more than others."

This is how I'm dead. All emotion drained once again. It floated away as I sank deeper into my dispaire.

I wish I never started
Started to believe that there was hope for me in this world
That I could be somebody instead of nobody like my predecessors told me
I wish I never started

I wish I never started
Started to fall victim to my teenage mentalities
Falling in love with a girl thinking I had a chance with thee
I wish I never started

You see,
I have been walking this shadowed path trying to get from point A to Point B
Banging my head against this solid brick wall
Just to watch the blood trickle down **** stained body
Crying in secret because I'm starting to realize that I am nothing more than fool for life's entertainment
As I slowly sink to the bottom of the dark matter sea
Looking at my reflecting as it shakes its head at me

I wish never started
Started this whole mission to escape the pain that haunted me
Believing that there really was a way to escape the endless abyss
I wish I never started

I wish I never started
Started to believe that the sorrows couldn't catch me if I ran fast enough
But now I'm just tired and too drained to look back up
I wish I never started

Just make it quick
I'm starting to get sick of this contradicting mindset
One side telling me that I am something
As the other just laughs and smile letting life do the talking
Popping popcorn over the fiery pitts of hell waiting to roast me
As it determines what seasoning will go best with thee
I'm tired can't you see
But life still pokes me with its pitchfork trying to force me to just give up

I wish I never started
Started to wish that I should start something new
Become something greater than the you in the mirror
I just wish I never started

But hey I'm glad I started
It was fun while it lasted
So I guess what I should be saying is
I'm wish I started sooner

If I am mad
What am I mad at
This answer that I seek
The solution I cannot find

If I am mad
Who is to bare this misery with me
Pay for their crimes against my essensence
Burn in hell where they belong

If I am mad
Who is to draw my sword if I lose control
Save me from myself
Perish in the Pitts of no return

If I am mad
Is there a such thing as being "safe"
Who will survive the chaos
Break me if it comes to such a thing

If I am mad
Will I cry as I realize what I've done
Will I choose to continue my existence upon wretched plain
Or will I choose to say goodbye to all but I

If I am mad
God help these poor innocent souls
End me I beg thee
Force me to drop dead before their very eyes

If I am mad
Allow me to go in peace
For I know what comes next...
Is everything but

It has been a long, long time since I felt this way
So long that I forgot how exquisite it felt
For the first time since that wretched day my soul is at ease
I can close my eyes and actually breathe
In my dreams I no longer see the rivers of blood
I no longer see the firey pitts of hell
No, I can actually see the beds of roses
I can actually smell their sweet scent
And I owe it all to you for setting me free
None of this could be if it wasn't for thee
Thank you for removing the shackles that forced me to my knees
You don't understand how happy I am to finally be able to be me
So I wrote this to show how grateful I truly am
Thank you for showing me the way
I'm glad you knew the right thing to say

It's dark
Yet I can see so clearly
I think I have been here for far too long,
Because now I can even breathe in this ominous air
But never mind that
Never mind any of this
Why is so dark?
Is it my soul being reflected into reality
It even has the little speck of light that sits alone in the darkest corner
An exact replica of what I can't even see anymore
It's so cold here
Even though I sit in front of the firery pitts of hell
Oh wait I am dreaming aren't I
My eyes are just closed
No, this is real
This pain is real
This emptiness I feel is real
But I'm not alone aren't I
That light that sits in the corner of the room
Is it that you are waiting for me
I'm coming
I thank thee
Though I apologizes for making you wait for far too long

You ****** me in you made me feel i could live again.  
I played the fool thinking i could trust another man.
But you played the cards and you played the so well i couldnt see that i was loosing myself.
I was so blinded By your lies and your charm i failed to see you were causing me harm
You grabbed my hand and lead me astray taking me down a path where i lost my way
You left me so lost my mind so confused youve darkend my soul that was already bruised

How could i be such a fool to love  someone as selfish as you
How could i follow you down a track where i couldnt find my way back
How could i loose everything  relying on chance
hypnotized By love i was stuck in a trance
How could you be so sadistic so deceiving and so cruel
To treat a women like that and then play the victim the fool

You flamed my heart with promises and lies you got the fire burning but the fire always dies
I got in too deep and relised there's no where to turn
So i followed you deeper into the pitts and you left me there to burn.
My life turned to ashes my soul turned to dust
My head fried in pieces my heart turned to rust.

Why do spies turn?
Hanssen, Pitts, Ames
Those are the ones we know about
Those we catch
But how many elude us?
We’ll never find out
Trained to be wary they cover their tracks
As we search for turncoats
It’s painstaking, sometimes depressing work
It’s usually money, unjustified anger at “the system”
Vacation homes, luxury travel and Ferraris provide a measure of pleasure
‘Til they are found out and get life sentences
My colleague, a psychiatrist who has met with these traitors in a
therapeutic setting says they compartmentalize
They think they are very smart (and often are)
And they’re remorseful and ashamed
Every intelligence agency in every country has these problems
Loyalty to country is the norm
But there are always bad apples
There is the suggestion that the agencies
Afford an amnesty to the those corrupted
Isn’t it better to bring them back in than suffer the loss of, say, an aircraft
carrier with 5000 sailors on it than having a traitor not serve a lot of jail time?

“****** butter was made by mixing two parts of lard with one part of molasses This ****** butter was what we had to use on our bread; and we did well if we didn't have to spread it deuced thin. The bread was so hard that it needed greasing; and this was all we had to grease it with – we had no gravy.” ~ Speaking Lives, Authoring Texts: Three African American Women's Oral Slave Narratives edited by DoVeanna S. Fulton Minor, Reginald H. Pitts

There would be - A whole bunch of Spidermen,
Just as many Wonder Women and Wandas
And even more Black Panthers

There would be - Bruce Springsteens.
Michaels and Micks, Pauls ‘n’ Johns ‘n’ Georges
- And just one Ringo -

There would be - Sports stars galore
An abundance of philanthropic actors
- McConaugheys, Jolies and Pitts -

There would be - Nurses and firefighters
Twelve-year-old girls’ dads
And the select few painters and poets

If we would all be heroes, for twenty-four hours

For all those Spidermen, Spingsteens and sports stars
- And even the poets -
It would be the most boring day, because

There would be - no one left to be saved