i have so many tabs in the books i read
they are color coded and when you flip open the book
i usually have some sort of comment there
these comments range from witty to cynical to dark to brutally honest
either with myself
or a general statement about the world
no matter what it says
whether silly or serious
those comments are my secrets
the tabbed off sections of my mind that i keep for only myself
the bruises i keep concealed
the words i’m too afraid to speak out loud
secrets between myself
my book
and my future self
who will one day read those tabs
those comments
and think back to the reasons they were left
think about all the obstacles i had overcome
and all words i had once related to
my truest self lies within
the margins of books
highlighted quotes
and color coordinated tabs
that no one knows the meaning of
i am terrified of someone reading those sections
someone picking up any one of my books
and knowing how i really feel on the inside
it would be as if someone had stripped me of my clothes
and left me for judgement
one day
i’ll be able to let someone open my books
to let them observe my truest self
and i hope that person is willing
to show me
their tabs too

Tag-araw na naman at tuwing sasapit ang buwan ng Marso, Abril at Mayo ay malimit pumunta sa isang hindi pamilyar na lugar ang magkakabarkadang sina Potsi, Tapsi, at Seksi.

Ang pagpunta sa baybayin o beach ay nakagawian na nilang gawin taon-taon. Ito rin ang kani-kanilang paraan upang pansamantalang makalayo sa napaka-abalang lugar sa Kamaynilaan.

"Pots, Sek, saan naman ang destinasyon natin ngayong taon? Malapit na ang holy week. Kaya dapat mayroon na tayong napagkasunduan," tanong ni Tapsi.

Tapsi ang palayaw na binigay sa kaniya ng kaniyang magulang dahil paborito niya ang pagkain ng iba't ibang uri ng tapa na may sinangag. Ang totoo niyang pangalan ay Mateo Paulo Sibucay.

Dahil dalawa lang naman silang lalaki, siya ang may pinakaguwapong mukha maliban na lamang kay Seksi na maganda dahil babae ito. Itinuturing din siyang hunk sa kanilang kompanya sa matikas na pangangatawan nito kahit hindi naman siya pumupunta sa gym.

"Perfect ang Laiya, Taps, Pots! Ano agree kayo?" namumungay ang mga mata ni Seksi nang sagutin nito ang tanong ni Tapsi.

Si Seksi, gaya ng palayaw niya ay kakikitaan naman ito ng kakaibang kaseksihan sa katawan. Malakas man itong lumamon ay hindi naman ito tumataba. Mahilig siya sa mga matatamis at paborito niya ang pagkain ng iba't ibang uri ng keyk. Ang tunay naman niyang pangalan ay Katarina Sek Javellana.

"Basta may mabibilhan ng pagkain kapag nagutom ako, okay na okay sa akin ang lugar, Taps at Sek," sagot naman ni Potsi habang may hawak-hawak na dalawang jolly hotdog sa kaniyang mga kamay.

Kulang na lamang ay mabilaukan ito dahil panay ang lamon nang lamon nito kahit may nginunguya pa sa bunganga. Siya ang mataba sa kanila pero ayaw niyang tinatawag niyang tawaging mataba. Mas gusto niya ang salitang chubby dahil cute daw ito sa pandinig niya. Ang tunay naman niyang pangalan ay Pocholo Travis Sigalado.

"Nakakahiya ka talaga, Potsi. Mabilaukan ka oy!" wika ni Tapsi.

"Heto, tissue o! Sahurin mo ang mga nahuhulog. Sayang din iyang pagkain. Alalahanin mo na maraming mga bata ang nagugutom sa kalsada," sabay abot naman ng tissue ni Seksi kay Potsi.

"Kaya nga sinisimot ko ang pagkain kasi sayang 'di ba?" ngunguso-ngusong sagot ni Potsi habang nagpapatuloy sa pagnguya sa kaniyang kinakain.

"Saan ba ang Laiya, Sek?" ani Tapsi.

"Sa Batangas lang naman siya. Mga isa't kalahati hanggang dalawang oras ang biyahe mula sa Maynila. Set na natin?" nakangiting sagot naman ni Sek habang ang dalawang hinlalaki ay naka-senyas ng aprub.

"Sa Black Saturday tayo pumunta para madami tayong makikitang mga tanawin!" gulat naman ang dalawa sa sinabi ni Potsi at pansamantala pang nagkatitigan sina Sek at Tapsi. Pagkatapos no'n ay nagsipagtawanan sila.

"Agree ako diyan sa Sabado de Gloria. Teka, 'di ba sa susunod na linggo na iyon?" ani Tapsi.

"Okay lang iyon, handa na rin naman tayo palagi e. Kaya walang problema. Sasakyan ko na lang ang gagamitin natin para makatipid tayo sa gasolina," si Potsi na ang sumagot matapos uminom ng mountain dew.

Tumango na lamang ang dalawa dahil alam naman nilang sa kanilang tatlo ay si Potsi ang laging handa. Minsan nga ay si Potsi na ang taya sa kanilang summer outing taon-taon e.

"At kung may problema kayo sa budget, ako na rin ang bahala ha? He-he," tatawa-tawang sabi ni Potsi na ikinatawa na rin naman ng dalawa.

"Maasahan ka talaga, Potsi! Gusto mo order pa kami ng pagkain sa iyo?"

Masayang nagtatawanan ang magbarkada sa Jollibee nang mga oras na iyon dahil sa kaibigan nilang si Potsi. Pare-pareho na rin naman silang may mga trabaho. Kaya wala nang problema sa kanila ang pera.

#TravelFriendsGoals ang motto nilang tatlo. Si Tapsi ay isang Real Estate Broker agent habang si Seksi naman ay isang Fashion Model at si Potsi ay isang Food Blogger. Lahat sila ay iisa ang hilig--ang maglakbay at libutin ang mga natatagong lugar sa Pilipinas.

*

Lumipas ang isang linggo, araw ng Sabado ay maagang umalis mula sa Quezon City ang magkakaibigan. Gamit ang sasakyan ni Potsi na Toyota Revo ay bumiyahe na sila. Si Potsi ang nagmamaneho, si Seksi naman ang tumitingin sa mapang dala niya habang si Tapsi ay panay ang kuha ng litrato sa sarili sa likuran ng sasakyan.

"Hindi ka ba nagsasawa sa mukha mo, Taps? Guwapong-guwapo ka sa sarili a!" tanong ni Potsi habang tumitingin-tingin sa rear-view mirror ng sasakyan. Nginitian na lamang siya ni Tapsi.

"Hayaan mo na 'yang broker nating kaibigan. Alam mo namang siya lang ang may magandang mukha sa inyong dalawa. Ha-ha," asar ni Sek kay Potsi.

"Anong guwapo? E kung pumayat ako 'di hamak na mas may hitsura ako kay Taps!" depensa naman ni Potsi.

"Oo na, Pots. Mas guwapo ka naman sa akin ng kalahating paligo lang naman kapag pumayat ka 'di ba? Bakit kasi ayaw mo akong samahan sa gym para makapag-work-out ka na rin at mabawasan ang bilbil mo?" ani Tapsi kay Potsi.

"Gusto mo ibaba kita sa gitna ng kalsada, Taps? At saka, hindi ko na kailangan mag-gym. Food is life. Enjoy life, enjoy goya sabi ng commercial ni Kim Chiu," naiinis na nagpapatwang sagot naman ni Potsi habang nakatuon pa rin ang atensiyon sa kalsada. Lihim na lamang na natawa si Seksi sa dalawang kaibigan.

"Ikaw naman, hindi na mabiro. Alam mo namang love kita e lalo na nang malaman kong love mo abs ko! Ha-ha," pang-aalaska na naman ni Tapsi.

"Mukha mo! Mas marami akong abs sa iyo, tabs nga lang at malalaki pa! Ha-ha," napuno na naman ng tawanan ang loob ng sasakyan. Asaran kung asaran. Iyan ang nakasanayan na nila.

Lumipas ang isang oras na biyahe ay nakatulog na sina Tapsi at Seksi habang si Potsi ay gising na gising ang diwa dahil habang nagmamaneho ay panay ang dukot nito sa baon niyang mga pagkain malapit sa kaniya.

Dumaan pa ang isang oras ay napansin ni Potsi na parang may mali sa direksyong tinatahak nila. Agad niyang kinuha ang mapang dala ni Seksi at tiningnan ito. Dahil hindi niya kabisado ang nakapaloob sa mapa, ginising na lamang niya si Seksi.

"Sek! Sek! SEEKKK!" tulog-mantika ang babae, kaya sumigaw na lamang si Potsi na ikinagulat din ni Tapsi sa back seat.

"Sorry. Naliligaw yata tayo. Tingnan mo ang mapa, Sek," agad namang tiningnan ni Seksi ang mapa at sinipat-sipat ang kinaroroonan nila.

"Ihinto mo nga ang sasakyan muna, Pots," sinunod naman nito si Sek at pansamantalang itinigil ang sasakyan.

"Ano, naliligaw na ba tayo, Sek?" binali-baligtad pa ni Seksi ang mapa para lang siguraduhing tama ang tinatahak nilang lugar patungo sa isang sikat na resort sa Laiya, Batangas. Ngunit, may napansin siyang kakaiba.

"Nasa Laiya na nga tayo, guys pero bakit tila napadpad tayo sa isang gubat na ito?" lahat ay napatingin sa itinuro ni Seksi sa mapa at binasa ang nakasulat doon.

"Satur-Death? Ano iyan? Hindi mo ba nakita ang lugar na iyan diyan sa mapa, Sek?" tila may kung anong kakaibang simoy ng hangin naman ang dumampi sa mga balat ng magkakaibigan ng mga oras na iyon matapos sambitin ang katagang Satur-death.

"Patingin nga? Kinilabutan ako sa pangalan e. Satur-death, tunog saturday o sabado tapos may death? Kamatayan? E 'di ba sabado ngayon? Don't tell me may mangyayaring hindi maganda sa atin?" sabay-sabay na nagkatinginan ang tatlo habang nakatigil ang sasakyan sa gitna ng kalsada na hindi pamilyar na lugar. Tahimik ang lugar na iyon at ni busina, tunog o mga sasakyan ay wala kang maririnig o makikitang napapadaan.  

"Ang mabuti pa, bumalik na lang tayo sa kung saan tayo kanina nanggagaling. Baka mali lang talaga ang napasukan natin. Baka shortcut lang ito, guys," nagtatapang-tapangang wika ni Seksi.

"Ang sabi sa pamahiin, kapag naligaw daw tayo, hubarin natin ang mga damit natin," nagpapatawang wika ni Potsi.

"Anong hubarin? Baka ang ibig **** sabihin, baligtarin!" pagkaklaro ni Tapsi.

"Pareho lang naman silang may 'rin' sa dulo e," dagdag pa ni Potsi. Napailing na lamang sina Tapsi at Seksi at naghubad na lamang upang baligtarin ang kanilang damit.

Matapos baligtarin ang damit ay pinaandar na ni Potsi ang sasakyan. Dahan-dahan na lamang niya itong minamaneho upang makabisado ang kalsadang kanilang tinatahak.

Tatlumpung minuto na ang nakalilipas nang matagpuan nila ang isang karatula sa gilid ng kalasda na nakadikit sa isang puno.

"THIS WAY TO LAIYA!"

Agad na nabuhayan ng loob ang magkakaibigan dahil sa nakitang sign board na nang tingnan nila sa mapa ay nakaukit naman iyon.

"Deretso na lang tayo, Potsi at mararating na natin ang mismong resort sa Laiya," iyan na lamang ang nasabi ni Seksi nang mga oras na iyon.

Nang malampasan nila ang karatula ay bigla na lang naging makulimlim ang kalangitan at biglang bumuhos ang ulan. At hindi nila inasahan ang isang palasong bumutas sa kaliwang gulong ng sinasakyan nilang Toyota Revo.

Gulat na gulat ang mukha ng magkakaibigan nang biglang gumewang-gewang ang sasakyan at nabundol ito sa isang puno. Mabuti na lamang at hindi sila napuruhan. Kaunting galos lamang ang kanilang natamo kaya agad din nilang inayos ang mga sarili.

Nang mga oras na iyon, sa side-mirror ng sasakyan ay may napansin si Seksi na papalapit sa kanilang kinaroroonan. Nang ilang metro na lamang ang layo nito sa kanilang sasakyan ay nakita niyang may hawak itong pana at palaso. Pinakawalan niya ito at tumama kaliwang bahagi ng side-mirror.

"BABA! LABAS! Takbo na tayo! May gustong pumatay sa atin. Labas na!" sa taranta ay isa-isang nagsilabasan sa loob ng sasakyan ang magkakaibigan. Napasubsob pa ang mukha ni Potsi sa damuhan pagkababa nito. Agad na inalalayan siya ni Tapsi upang makatayo habang si Seksi naman ay sumisigaw na.

"Takbo! Takbo na! Bilis!"

Walang lingon-lingon ay agad na silang nagsitakbuhan ngunit hindi pa man sila nakakahakbang ay isang palaso ang tumama sa kaliwang binti ni Potsi dahilan upang mapabitaw ito sa balikat ni Tapsi at natumba.

Napahiyaw sa sakit si Potsi. Gulantang naman ang mukha ni Seksi. Nagmadali siyang balikan ang kaibigan at tinulungang makatayo si Potsi dahil malapit na malapit na ang salarin sa kanila.

"Iwan niyo na ako, Taps, Sek!" kitang-kita na sa mga mata ni Potsi ang panghihinat at takot nang mga oras na iyon. Kahit umuulan ay pansin na pansing naluluha na ang kaibigan.

"Hindi ka namin pwedeng iwan dito, Pots! Sama-sama tayo! Sek, bilis iangat natin si Pots. Isa, dalawa, tatlo!" kahit mabigat ay nagawa pa rin nila itong itayo upang makatakbo at makalayo sa kung sino man ang gustong pumatay sa kanila.

Nang muli na silang hahakbang ay hindi nila napansin ang paglapit ng hindi pamilyar na nilalang at itinarak sa likuran ni Potsi ang matulis na palaso. Agad na lumingon sina Tapsi at Seksi sa salarin nang sumigaw nang malakas si Posti.

Doon ay mulagat silang pareho nang isa na namang palaso sana ang tatama at itatarak kay Sek. Mabuti na lamang ay maagap si Tapsi. Binitawan niya si Potsi at agad na sinugod ang salarin.

Parang torong iniuntog ni Tapsi ang ulo niya sa tiyan nito at pareho silang natumba sa magkabilang direksyon. Nang mga sandaling iyon, habang patuloy sa pagbuhos ang ulan ay naaninag ni Seksi ang mukha ng gustong pumatay sa kanila.

May suot itong maskara sa mukha na ang tanging makikita ay ang mga mata lamang niya. Ang mga balat sa leeg, kamay at paa ay parang bangkay na naagnas. Matatalim din ang mga kuko nito sa mga kamay at paa.

Itinuon ni Sek ang atensiyon sa kaibigang si Potsi na nang mga oras na iyon ay tila nawalan ng malay. Niyugyog-yugyog niya ang kaibigan. Pinakiramdaman niya rin ang pulso nito at pinakinggan ang tibok ng puso. Doon ay napagtanto niyang may pag-asa pa si Potsi.

"Taps! Buhay pa si Potsi!" sigaw niya sa kaibigan.

"Tumakas na kayo, Sek! Ako na ang bahala rito! Alis na!" agad na sinugod si Sek ng kaharap at nahagip ng tulis ng palaso ang kaniyang braso dahilan upang makaramdam siya ng hapdi.

Hinila-hila naman ni Sek si Potsi upang dalhin sa ligtas na lugar. Kahit hindi kaya ng kaniyang mga braso ay pinilit niya pa ring hilahin ito.

Samantala, dinampot ni Tapsi ang palasong nabitawan ng may sa kanibal na nilalang at pinatamaan ito sa pamamagitan ng pagtarak ng palaso. Parang gutom na gutom naman ito dahil naiilagan niya ang bawat pagtarak sa kaniya ng palaso.

Animo ay isang baliw na nakakita ng kaniyang laruan ang kaharap ni Tapsi. Hindi naman nagpatalo ang huli. Nang muling itatarak sa kaniya ang palaso ay napigilan niya ito at sinipa sa gitnang hita ang kaharap. Napahawak naman ito sa kaniyang hinaharap. Hindi na rin sinayang ni Tapsi ang pagkakataon upang makaganti.

Agad niyang kinuha ang palasong nabitawan niya at itinarak iyon sa leeg. Makailang beses niyang hinugot-baon ang palaso at itinarak muli sa iba pang bahagi ng katawan nito. Sa leeg, sa mata, sa butas ng tainga maging sa bunganga at ang panghuli sa puso nito.

Hingal na hingal man si Tapsi ay nagawa pa niyang tanggalin ang nakabalot na maskara sa mukha ng kaniyang kalaban at doon nakita ang inuuod-uod ng mukha. Hindi niya nasikmurang pagmasdan kaya nasuka si Tapsi. Kinalaunan ay pinuntahan na lamang niya si Sek na hindi pa rin nakakalayo sa kakahila sa kaibigang si Potsi.

Punong-puno ng dugo ang mga kamay, mukha at kasuotan ni Tapsi nang makita siya ni Sek. Nahuhugasan lamang iyon sa bawat patak at buhos ng ulan.

"Kailangan na nating makaalis dito, Taps. Kailangan maisugod si Potsi sa ospital!"

"Saan tayo hihingi ng tulong e, nakita mo namang mukhang halimaw ang nakalaban ko, Sek,"

"Si Potsi, Taps. Anong gagawin natin? Marami ng dugo ang nawala sa kaniya,"

"Hindi ko alam pero sana tumila na ang ulan nang makita na natin ang dinadaanan natin para makahingi tayo ng tulong. Tulungan mo na akong buhatin si Potsi. Siguro naman--"

Hindi pa natatapos ni Tapsi ang kaniyang sasabihin nang maramdaman niyang may matulis na bagay ang tumusok sa kaniyang batok na tumagos sa kaniyang lalamunan.

Sigaw naman nang sigaw si Sek at hindi na malaman ang gagawin. Nakita niyang may papalapit naman sa kinaroroonan nila. Kailangan na niyang iwanan ang mga kaibigan at iligtas ang kaniyang sarili para makapagtago.

Sa isang malaking puno sa 'di kalayuan ay doon nagtago si Sek. Tanging mga mata na lamang niya ang nagmamasid sa kung ano ang puwedeng gawin ng mga ito sa kaniyang mga kaibigan.

Katulad ng napatay ni Tapsi ay ganoon din ang mga hitsura ng kani-kanilang balat at mukha. Katulad sila ng mga kanibal na gustong pumatay ng tao. Isang babaeng may mahahabang buhok ang may hawak na tabak ang walang kaabog-abog na tumabas sa leeg ni Tapsi.

Gustuhin mang sumigaw ni Sek ay hindi niya magawa. Tinakpan na lamang niya ang kaniyang bunganga at parang gripong sunod-sunod naman sa pag-agos ang kaniyang mga luha nang makita ang sinapit ng kaibigang sina Tapsi at Potsi.

Gamit ang tabak ay isa-isa naman nilang pinagtataga ang katawan ni Potsi. Pinutulan nila ito ng braso at ibinigay sa isang maliit na batang sabik na sabik na kainin ito habang ang isang may katangkarang lalaki ay panay ang sipsip at dila nito sa ulong-pugot ni Tapsi.

Duwal na duwal na si Sek nang mga oras na iyon at agad na nagsuka. Sa kasamaang palad ay matalas ang pandinig nila at narinig siya ng isang matangkad na lalaki at inamoy-amoy ang paligid upang malaman ang kinaroroonan niya. Pigil-hininga naman si Sek at isiniksik ang sarili sa punong pinagtataguan niya. Takip-takip na rin niyang muli ang kaniyang bibig upang pigilan ang kaniyang paghikbi.

Nakiramdam pa si Sek sa kaniyang paligid kung naroroon pa ang mga halimaw. Tanging ang pintig na lamang ng kaniyang puso ang kaniyang narinig nang mga sandaling iyon kaya naman ay marahan siyang tumingin sa direksyon kung saan naroon ang kaniyang mga kaibigan.

Isang mata pa man lang ang kaniyang nailalabas nang biglang bumulaga sa kaniya ang isang inuuod na mala-demonyo ang mukhang nakangiti sa kaniya at hinawakan siya sa buhok.

Nagpupumiglas si Sek at pilit na tinatanggal ang kamay nito sa buho. Pero isang malakas na suntok sa sikmura ang kaniyang natikman. Agad siyang kinaladkad habang nakahawak pa rin ito sa kaniyang buhok at dinala sa kinaroroonan ng kaniyang mga patay na kaibigan.

Napatakip na lamang sa kaniyang bibig si Sek nang mapagmasdan ang sinapit ng kaniyang mga kaibigan sa kaniyang harapan.

Hawak-hawak pa rin ng lalaki ang kaniyang buhok ay agad na itinutok sa kaniyang leeg ang matulis na tabak. Pigil hininga at lunok-laway na lamang ang nagawa ni Sek nang unti-unting hinihiwa ang balat sa kaniyang leeg hanggang sa maabot ng tabak ang ugat nito. Sabay-saba

The burr shaking in a
Bohemian Awakening
(Long) vintage stare how
her words were spelled
out snake tongue (Short)
The Death
Whats Up* Chap of a sport
Whats Up Doc
Going tick tock Mr. Rick
Don't trick this document
Oh! where did it drop
What!! He made the drop
dead gorgeous dress?

Born to die last lip of the spoonfuls
Cut to the chase with my chap lips
More deaths on the rise to deliver 
 
How love was the
mind controller
Hands out of the grave
couldn't hold her
Like the Boulder Chief head
Hothead on her shoulder
The better herbs of medicine
His racing car hot flame
gasoline

The Rapsody of her melody
holding on to her life
What a unique wife
Until time changes her moods
Opening up her world of flower buds
A different silence of home goods
We do believe we can be

The Champions

But the fallout of promises
Or jobs never big advances

Oh! Christ
Her chapped lips needed some
time to heal where is her next meal
The heat catching a death of cold
But staying alive the second
wind hot Ferrari Italian drive
Feeling deathly-sick faking
your death was no trick

Who disappeared never
really certain
if it was truly their
Building the fire mountain
Don't keep complaining
where the time went
Death of a cold wishes
not to die
where is our youth
Only takes one amazing birth
Lips kissing the fountain
The fortune teller booth

Who would want her chapped lips
Baby Ruth crunchy bar
down the mountain
The love confused her the
death would be
faster going once or twice up
Guilty trip or the graveyard shift
Hangover ski lift with her
Beeswax for chap lips
Taxman on the number rise flirting
What a good chap
In her coffee cup a little Robin birdie
told you

You made your own grave
time on my side or hanging
by a thread of stitches
Hats off up and away
Getting a green facelift of witches
You lived so far the good life
Feeling so wanted
he cooked your meals
He cleaned up your mess wearing
The Chef Apron 
 *He's Wanted the sign
All over the world,
his face is wanted
The fool lips the fuller up lips
The heart went out of touch a deathly cold
She is wearing her heart-shaped lips
Doing what she is told
How the world has been
smudged with
rules
Noone knows where here

All her cracks of her lips
The cute button nose
Not Rudolph the Reindeer
The hunt for the ****** nose
Up close and personal
Lip to his lip journal
Such odds of numbers
So many even deaths
like tumblers
Through the loopers
Love and resentment
The world is a village commitment
Mcdonald Man beef and the
melted lady
cheese
whooper
You got an alert notice
The cast of spells the
fire went high
You couldn't even put it out
The death of a Salesman novice
Papercut snip computer nasty chip
The charcoal grill felt like it burned you
The fires new hires of California
The peace sign
Imagine people with no

Holy water
Whose mind is in order
The Dementia patients
Your own flame so many hot flames
The rest of the world caught a death
of a cold like an old flame

*The Goddess of Venus
The darker edge his cool hummer
Going on a shoot with chapped lips
Who is really keeping tabs

There was nothing to believe in to hold
To restore how do we balance the world
But we are not Gods
Chapped lips caused
such an alarm
All things take time then
it's in harm's way
Someone will understand to pay
Like a settlement
Deathly gray hairs on the pavement
Getting hurt but the best Godly soil
is still their like dirt
There was no reception hell broke
loose riot
Everything was naked sound
No time to sing a duet to
feet on the ground love couplet

That snow drift fall on your face
Who will be where you are in
the next century place

Perhaps your last picture
before you die
How the singer live on
to be remembered
  Why are we not discovered
Can we be saved from redemption
Like you have been squirted on
Like Heinz Ketchup did you catch up
To get his kiss did he feel your death of cold
But never to exist
What is on our bucket list?

He opens his Star Wars: A New Hope lunch box
Inside a hippies dream.
**** in baggies that have the superman symbol
And Batman symbol on them
Tabs of LSD
And molly.
Hunter S. Thompson would have a field day

©Gambit '13

Seven shots with ****** knuckles,
four bottles of letting everyone down,
Eight hits from a disappointing life.

It only took me one trip to the rehab center called your touch. I used the medicine of your love to become sober.

now I am dependent on you, I need you every day and do not feel the same without you. I have an itch when I'm away and a warmth when I'm close. I became addicted to your love.

twelve tabs of compassion,
three pints of self-worth,
five pills of your warm embrace,
And one injection of beautiful passion.

I want you...

I need you...

I have you.

I love you.

Let's get some sunlight
Let's start a bar fight
We'll take our problems and forget we have to solve them
Let's take two tabs
Let's start a **** lab
We'll cover up insecurity with promiscuity

Let's sleep 'til Sunday
It's only Monday
I have to work at 2 but I think I have the bird flu
Let's call the drug store
Ask for a couple more
Insignificant reality crashes into banality  

Let's make a hash pipe
Out of Brite Lites
We'll quote Pulp Fiction with Ezekiel's conviction
Let's start a fight club
Where we can make love
Punch me in the ear and then I'll disappear

Let's start a new life
But after midnight
There's a whole universe waiting to be uncovered first
Let's make a difference
Let's make new friends
Let's go where the wind blows but first I have to put on clothes

Sleeplessness
Brought to you by sparkling espresso in a can
I have underestimated you yet again, oh humble coffee bean
But back to work
Eight tabs open, going back and forth
It's nothing short of a miracle if any given task is given more than a minute of attention at a time
Muscle spasms, trembling, fascinating
Overwhelming urge to mindlessly flex the muscles I don't have
Fake machissimo brought about by exhauation?
Or the exhileration of having to complete 8 projects in a day
While simultaneously trying to grasp a breaking down of my mind which hasn't happened since...forever
Hmm
These are the prime conditions to breed a taxing marathon of productivity
Or a chain of costly impulsive decisions to perpetuate procrastination.
Signs that someone is going crazy range from ****** to inability to stick to a single topic to excessive use of run on sentences
"How meta, acknowledging your insanity deconstructs the very notion of it if you normalize it within yourself and just look as everyone else as crazy! Ha.ha."
That made no sense, i don't think.
I like using big words to make myself sound smart you can make anyone believe anything if you use big words also it scares those
Hippopotomonstroesquipedaliophobixlcs
Grumble grumble
Good night/morning/whatever

Once upon a time
there was a young adult
who spent time on the dark web,
Searching for the most obscure and exotic substances humanity could offer.

Late nights tracking down vendors with the most up-to-date wares:
Drugs.
Research chemicals,
Novel psychoactive substances.
Illicit pharmaceuticals and exotic materials.
Pills, powder, liquid, tabs, any material one could find.
Uppers, downers, dissos, deliriants,
Psyches, anti-psyches, stimulants,
Depressants, anti-depressants,
*** drugs, study drugs,
'noids, 'roids, and
even vitamins.

There was the standard battery of illegal narcotics,
******* knockoffs of more popular drugs,
Drugs designed to evade anti-doping tests
and then the more experimental stuff.

Suffice to say this part of the internet is a strange and lawless world.
Not like the Wild West, more like the backstreets of Seoul.

The goal was nothing more than knowledge
of this rapidly evolving-world.

One night a vendor's listing flagged their attention
and on an intuition they acquired
a batch of synthetic cannabinoids for nothing.
A few days later a letter arrived
containing several unlabeled bags of power.

It took many months to even partially identify them.
The vendor went dark before the results came in.

One compound was entirely novel. It did not have a name
so it was assigned one. It did not have a history of human use
but had entered the wild human populace.

After identification they were destroyed.
The properties of that novel compound remain unknown.

Take the knapsacks
and the utensils and washtubs
and the books of the Koran
and the army fatigues
and the tall tales and the torn soul
and whatever's left, bread or meat,
and kids running around like chickens in the village.
How many children do you have?
How many children did you have?
It's hard to keep tabs on kids in a situation like this.
Not like in the old country
in the shade of the mosque and the fig tree,
when the children the children would be shooed outside by day
and put to bed at night.
Put whatever isn't fragile into sacks,
clothes and blankets and bedding and diapers
and something for a souvenir
like a shiny artillery shell perhaps,
or some kind of useful tool,
and the babies with rheumy eyes
and the R.P.G. kids.
We want to see you in the water, sailing aimlessly
with no harbor and no shore.
You won't be accepted anywhere
You are banished human beings.
You are people who don't count
You are people who aren't needed
You are a pinch of lice
stinging and itching
to madness.


Translated from the original Hebrew by Karen Alkalay-Gut.

We friended on Facebook,
Scrolled down our profile pages.
Lived together in a virtual world.
Our images and websites we shared
With Instagram incisiveness.

Meet all my friends.
Block any you do not like.
All busy we are, doing nothing.
Like if you agree.

Laptops were not enough.
Users subscribed to Smartphones,
Iphones, and God knows what.
Google them if you wish.

And if you like my words
Retweet them.
But beware!
I now use words like lol,
And even ***!
Hehe.

Sometimes I multitask,
Flicking TV channels
Like a Subbuteo striker –
Gone virtual by now I guess.
Flicking and flipping while I scroll
My laptop page.

I make new tabs
As I message many friends:
Emoticons exploding
All along the way.

I’m Tivo-boxing clever
All the time,
King of my domain.

So get your VDU lit up
And monitor my words.
Download my thoughts
Into your memory banks.

I hope this all computes.

Paul Butters

For Sam Cook and Michael Lee*

While standing at Marshall and 140th
the lightning over the horizon begs me to come to it
it's like the flickering streetlights, seeming like silent firefights,
simply asking to be looked for.

When I still elementary,
I used to watch the sky as the bolts shocked the earth
and I'd count:
one
two
three
Until I heard the boom and crack of thunder
three miles away, at least, the fourth graders said each second was a mile
it could have been true, it could have not, yet still I watch the light.

The flickering of the fading streetlamp tells me that this moment is not going to last forever
that it will not be heavenly or touchable, but it is there
and it wants you to touch the light as it flickers like a strobe light
like kids playing with the tabs of flashlights
and like the first discovery of light switches

and I'm reaching out so far.
Trying to grab hold of a piece of simplicity,
of normal,
of what I can always find:
Mistakes and wounds
and trying to hold on

Because lately, it seems like the only places we want to flicker are in the clubs.
Standing on a planet where illness and difference are cause enough to torch cities.
We like to light the fires and we like to watch them burn,
but we could care less about what their burning
and it seems like the dark ages came and stayed,
But like tributes to Guy Fawkes say:
A man can be killed and forgotten,
but four hundred years later an idea can still change the world
So I think as I stand at that intersection
watching the streetlights and the night's light bulbs flicker on and off like the light in my head
I can feel my fingertips prickle and I seize that moment to reach for the lamppost and final destination

those kids are flipping tabs faster and faster
my hair is at attention
and I can feel the race.
For a second,
everything slows down.
The streetlight stops flickering as my fingertips come upon it
and the lightning illuminates the sky
I can feel the breeze push my hair to this minutes path
and for a second,
I have something.

I pull my fingers away from the light and it returns to its flicker
the lightning fades away
and the boom comes in.

And here, standing at what once for me was Marshall and 140th
I realize,
that all I have
is all
I'll ever claim to know

Independence has a nice ring to it-
The cash register when I pay for myself,
The ding of the doors I open on my own.

I don't need anyone to be whole anymore-
I filled my potholes with my own hands,
In my own ways.

I found a way to be alone and be okay-
Though the nights can get long
And I miss trailing kisses trailing to the bedroom.

I can open my own doors and pay my own tabs,
Though I miss opening up to someone else
And independence has a price to pay;

The cold nights can't be filled by anyone
Because one night stands, friends with benefits
Won't fulfill the small void not even my own self could achieve.

I surely don't need anyone to survive,
But that doesn't mean I don't want someone,
Or yearn for a hand to hold other than my own.

When I hear the words "abusive relationship"
I think of the gruesome pictures of women
battered and bleeding
that they showed to us in health class.
They forget that not all wounds are so easily seen.

not MY relationship.
I would never fall victim to such a horrific cycle,
of emotional abuse.
Sure he screamed and called me every name in the book,
but at the end of every night he swore he loved me.
And sure he kept tabs on me at all times,
and my friendships began to fade into the background,
but he just worried, which meant he cared.
...right?

not MY relationship.
Sometimes we become so invested and fall so deeply in love,
that we become numb to the pain.
The abnormal becomes normal.
And the punishment that you so often receive,
you begin to believe is deserved.

MY relationship.
I hesitate to call it abusive,
maybe because it has such a horrifying ring to it.
Maybe it's denial.
But whatever it is,
it took me 3 years to finally break the cycle.

Red haired dame
black roots
dark brown eyes
thin lips

but smiles neat
handles the cell phone
between thin fingers
nails chewed

adding tabs
suggesting networks
that work best
thin tattooed arms

small busted
maybe less expensive
but it's better
she says

Johnny smiles
notes the small stud
in her lower lip
knows her cell phones well

that's for sure
he knows
next to nowt
just to switch

on and off
and send a text or two
and call
now and then

but it's Johnny daughter
who's buying
not he
he's just the onlooker

taking notes
for a poem
just like this
mental note as poets do

to catch the essence
before it takes flight
like some rare moth
into the night.

"Has it not never occurred to you," he said, eyes rolling like dice,
"The grab to bake cannot be left undone?
The neck to slip will save the top of leg?
When they lift we ****** the rotten *****?
Six trots can win the flat softball netting?
Lost rocks find tabs undone by the grandpas?
It's like unbecomingphilomancy!"

You know what I mean?

The moth with newspaper wings sat under the arrow lungs of the eyeless
blood dripped falcon, more whole than the super-glued roman sculpture.

Next door a 50’s con held up church with a roulette table in the kitchen,
and boarded up the massage parlor
downstairs.

The eye of the man was a centrifuge of ducks, mallard and hen, spiraling
outward into evaporated roach-ground
asphalt.

Next door, slits in the picket fence displayed perfectly formed **** & broach,
empty shoes made of feet below, blending
fields.

The marble foundation formed from twine lollipops and fuzzy candy tabs,
ice-etched to the frequency of splintered seashell
angels.

Next door through the forest of knives a spaceship bearing gargoyles peaked
bodies through collages of faces in technicolor sepia
mitosis.

The heiress molted into tiled pieces, her own dog and sunhat caught in blizzard
cuneiform, kaliedescoping again to fractalled inchworms cemented in motion.

Put it on my tab
I’m good for it
I always have been
I’ve never not been
They never ask
Always leave it open
No ID needed
Never a regular
But always there
They only ever ask what it will be today
I always pick the red head
I tell them IPA tonight
They pour a drink that looks so much like a dream I’ve had before
She sings Robin Thicke
Her dress stays on
Our wrists are bare
Her skin a good whiskey
Her lips a granny smith
My eyes transfixed on her neck

These dreams never last
The drink fades too quickly
I don’t have the liver to keep her around
I don’t have the heart to let her go

When the internet became prevalent
I was enthralled by it-
curious as to what life had to offer
and how everything fit into one box
a ****-load of information in one place
a journey to discovery I never had before
except in books and news stories.
I always stayed up late on my dad's computer
tower below me-
humming, humming as I swayed feet
dangling from the computer chair
I was just a small child.
Age 8-
browsing something called a history
it showed me everything my father did.
I wanted him to be proud of me
so I tried to mock his interests
until I found his ****.
"BIG ***** BLONDES"
"*** GUZZLING *****"
My eyes widened-
I was going to throw up.
I regurgitated the anxiety of my life
onto the computer screen
I became entranced by discovery of the fuckery
keeping tabs on the tabs he had opened.
Age 10-
found my dad was on a dating website for hookups
found his ***** emails to other women
and more ****-
that he paid for.
Building up ammo to throw in his face
until I was awake middle of the night
saw it right in front of mine.
Looking out my bedroom window
two ****** in the hot-tub
one on either side of my mother's husband-
all naked.
I shut my eyes and walked away.
Laid in bed and thought about how
my mother was asleep in the next room.
I would like to think this is the reason for my trust issues.
Why social media scares the **** out of me
because this day and age there's consistent
access to the fuckery-
a window of opportunities.  

My first boyfriend would never let me see his phone
I didn't really want to
but every time I got near it
maybe to check the time
or hand it to him when it rang
he got nervous-
conflicted and anxious.
Tore it away from my hands on multiple occasions
never thought twice,
just thought he was protective of privacy.
He was cheating on me-
with my best friend.
How cliche.

Age I don't know 16.
Met a boy who liked the same music as me-
made me laugh every time we spoke
and I felt like I could finally be myself
but he was inconsistent-
a mind-**** and would go weeks without talking to me.
Then he would treat me like I was his
and invite me out with his friends.
Drunken nights turned to early mornings
leaving and him never texting,
never calling.
It ****** with my mind
I was left confused as he flirted with other girls
on Myspace, then Facebook.
He told me liked me-
I told him I felt the same.
He got drunk-
****** someone else behind my back.
Found out from his friends.
Burnt the **** of his he left at my house.
Always inconsistent.

I had never been anyone's
they always leave when the title becomes me
or they always end up leaving me for another.
I'd like to think that's where my insecurity lies.
Never really been the kind of girl guys like to date-
afraid of commitment even after spending a year with someone
He ****** me-
over, up and good.
He broke my heart too-
didn't even leave me for someone else
he left me to become someone else
so I stood waiting to become something someone enjoyed.
It happened.
Found inconsistency again-
he also liked the same music as me
I'm starting to think that's not such a good thing.
But he showed me I needed to stop thinking so much-
stop looking too into things
and just be myself.
Anxiety wasn't a factor for me with him
only jealousy.
I didn't have to work so hard.
All that really mattered to me was me-
but the inconsistency was too much.
My inconsistency was too much.
Now I am never enough.
I'd like to blame my insecurities on all of that.
Shout at my father in the face and tell him he ruined me
found love only once and it tore me apart.
I'm trying to mend that again-
find it, harness it and be okay with it like I was once.
I'm scared to death I'll never find it again
scared to death of everyone else but myself.
I'm afraid of my own shadow again
because it reminds me of what I have lost.

I wish I was as happy as I pretend to be
Scared of unspoken defeat, who would care?
I'm most vulnerable alone when my thoughts are racing
Like a web browser with millions of open tabs, thousands of book marks I never seem to reopen
My mind is tired and restless
My body wears evidence of emotional exhaustion like a blanket
This outbreak of sorrow won't last but even then, when all seems ok...The storm will come back.

blunt tips of bent cigarettes
were incisive as razors -
sliced wrists weeping
bright red sentences,
spattered unborn to blank paper
and turned into statues
so the dead would always remember
what they did,
never safe in the graves
in which they'd took refuge

but blue on blue
was ever her color;
blue on blues
seeping from old sins,
deep, hidden within spidery veins
that traced pale, soft *******,
finally filling mute lips as she slept,
subsumed in oceans of color,
blues that gave stories, as waves to shore
subsided, reclaiming their pain,
and cleansed sand once more

What end to life!
a collection of furies like stone turtles
arranged on the mantle -
just a few dozen last words
tucked among ads for
Old Spice and Polident tabs
unread, used to line
litter boxes in Cambridge
or wrap fresh fish at Hay Market;

then, someone pausing to wave at the sky
missed saving the drowning woman
by years, if he'd tried,
finding questions in every answer;
child curled in hard lap of his mother,
her cold affections of words
blew from dead lips like old wishes
without tender touch or wet kisses;
but that life continued,
if lived only blue on blue

As the magic morning coffee beans take hold,
My thoughts turn into windows
That sprout like flowers or weeds
Across my screen until by lunch time
There’s sixteen or seventeen or eighteen
Links and tabs dividing me
Into minute long thoughts
That grab me for a second
Before being blown away
By a swish of fingers
On the trackpad
I can’t
Keep
Track.
Of…
Help.
I…
I need another coffee.

I can see you through this heavenly body
Eternal static to me
is death and life to you
A spec of light
An ocean with depths completely untouched by human skin
My heart beats with anticipation
Sweat beading and tear falling
Hands shaking and thoughts racing
I'd tell you I'm sorry
I'd tell you I didn't know my strength
I'd beg for forgiveness for
exploiting your weaknesses
like a glass bottle broken into a children's sandpit, like a design so flawed
You lived with it.
I can't live with this.

it seems my entire life is defined by drinks.

mother's milk out the womb.

(and maybe those suckles were sweet - it's not like i remember - but her words, for the rest of my life, certainly weren't.)

an hour-long debate, with my best friend at twelve years old - apple or orange juice?

(orange, obviously, is the right answer. we rehash the argument sometimes to this day.)

the day i turn 19, a beer in my hands.

(i'm sat around a campfire with my closest friends, birthdays all older than me - the beer tastes disgusting, as cheap alcohol is, but i'm glad to be there.)

yesterday, i had 1 coffee and 2 mugs of lemon honey tea, 4 glasses of water.

today, no tea, but 2 cups of coffee, a glass of milk, and 3 glasses of water.

i bite at my nails when i'm nervous, swallow down the spit that comes with it, the bile that rises.

last summer, i visited pei, had a raspberry cordial - my favourite drink to date - then bought a case of 4 more to take home with me.

last summer, when i lived in new brunswick, my friends in the same building knew me as the one who would always have a drink in hand - a milk tea, or maybe a pink lemonade, maybe that obscure korean soda i liked.

when i left new brunswick, i took a photo of my 2 trash cans, of the way they were both filled to the brim with empty bottles and cans and jugs.

i still miss the apple cider they made there.

my life is defined by drinks, sips, swallows, taking five minutes to breathe by making myself a nice whipped coffee, trawling the internet for pretty coasters and glassware for an hour in lieu of doing actual work.

Eventually, i close the shopping tabs, take a sip of coffee, and resume with the rest of my life.

Long before “inside” was invented
We were animals
Breathe, roar as one

I walk around like an old man Thanks to a bad back and mirrors

I don’t pay attention to ceilings

I don’t know millions of things

But mankind will label time and space to be productive I suppose

If Color brings context
I am blind
And don’t know what pictures are

Geometry and canvas
I can’t believe it’s not paper

Bring the tribes back with you

The bed is cold when you turn in at night
   because the frigid winter winds have settled in too
   and like a fool you left the window open all day
You take a dab of speed as the lamp goes dim
   its the only thing to keep tumescence
   when you make love to a lover you no longer love
******* is no longer sport, only a chore
   and the night birds at the window sing a song of sadness
   beady eyes keeping tabs on the city boy's blues
When the day is done the television screeches, unreality television
   you're so depressed and you have nothing, not even sleep
   and the cold body beside you snores through the night
Even on rare occasions of sleep, you only dream of dying
   fiery bus brought with peasant's tokens is burning
   as it flies over some cliff face and you remain stoic
Waking only in afternoon sunsets with a sore head and dry mouth
   stumble down the stairs to an empty kitchen and the cat has **** again
   you clean the mess and make a sandwich, no topping just butter
How many days can pass before you crawl to the shop to buy food
   and you contemplate suicide as you scrape the tub of butter again
   falling upstairs in a somber stupor, vomiting after eating
She comes home from work and calls it off, packing her bags
   you roll another joint without words being spoken
   she closes the door and the already broken window breaks more
Smoking on your herbal solitude and preparing the last hit
   that sweet tender brown in a spoon you found
   it hits the vein and you feel happiness, first and final time
Sitting in some trash-found chair and reading Camus
   these are the final moments, surely you cannot hold on
   Abner Jay is playing and you fall asleep forever

You sit in busy subway cars
and start tabs at the ****** bars
in search of girls with wider hips
to trace in the air with your fingertips

You look for love in silhouettes
but find it in your cigarettes
and when you think your love life's back on track
you're reaching for another pack

Your denim sofa is a shrine
for sequins and for cheap red wine
which stains the fabric every night
but won't clean off, try as you might

You stroll down backstreets and alleys on end
hoping you will find a friend
in a girl who sells herself to you
because you know she needs friendship too

It's a confusing puzzle,
But still holds true:
You can't live with me;
I can't live without you.

Life is but a journey,
I chose to go through with you;
But now that you won't have me,
It's hard for me to continue.

Fate is a bitter cruel harpy,
With her sisters she conspires
For the death of my Love,
As your Love for me transpires!

Hope is a painful therapy,
It burns while nursing Time's stabs;
But the scars strengthen Experience,
As it assists to keep Reason's tabs.

Love and Reason are antithesis,
That can't co-exist;
But their affinity is such
That to be together they persist.

Perfection in Love is when
There is room for Reason;
But when Reason and Logic court,
Love calls it Treason!

Love is unfair and immature,
And still as pure as a dove;
But there's no use of Reason,
With the death of Love.

This poem is an analogy:
Which in life stands true;
It's no use of me loving you,
If there's no hope for you to love me too.

Ten thousand
Tabs of nothing
Opened in my brain
While I’m trying my hardest to
Stay sane
The walls vibrate around
Me
They mock me with their shake
Ten thousand tabs of
Nothing
My nerves about to break
It takes me down every
So often
It corrupts each thing I touch
Ten thousand tabs of nothing
Open
I wish I didn’t mind so much.
  
                                    -L.Frost

All respect to Immortal Technique for the original "Dance with the Devil"(from whence the inspiration came)

Idea by Mr.Sandman ,Lyrics,-Tormented Soul("Mr.Sandman")The Devil(Jay Byrne)
Heavily influenced by and sampled from Immortal Technique(and Richard Kadrey's Sandman Slim novels,but that's another story...)

sample Immortal tech

"Now the Devil follows me every where that I go,
in fact I'm sure he's standing among one of you at my shows"

"The devil follows me,since an early age
was the recipient and donor of a murderous rage,
spit it down on page,burns like Alien acid,
my demeanor?the opposite of placid,
acid tabs and bags of yokes,coke and ket,
I'll eat,sniff and swallow,then smoke over your death,
been an agent of terror,since I turned 13,
and met the vicious demon who was dwelling within"

Vicious ? Me ? No- you got it all wrong.
I've been lookin' out for you all along.
Come on. Come help me sing my song.

"who the hell is this voice inside,I've heard all along?
the sniggering,conniving,font of my wrongs,
666 tattoo is a dubious crown,
for I know what awaits me underground"

sample
"Now the Devil follows me every where that I go,
in fact I'm sure he's standing among one of you at my shows"

Chorus(Skitz),so no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
you're ****** lucky that the devil chose me to follow...

Jay- But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..hallowed be the shadows.
So no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
praise your god that the devil chose me to follow...

But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..your soul soon to follow.

Sample
"so if the devil wants to dance with you you better say never,
cause a dance with the devil might last you for ever"

you **** trickster I loved her,you made me ****,
my own wife to add grist to your evil mill

I'm contrite. Never my intention.
You seemed to succumb to your own aggression.
But I can ease your pain...

"power,money,*****,drugs,material gain,
seem to pale when the devil's caught the glimmering flame,
of your soul in a trap like a rabbit in a snare..."

So who's to blame ? You knew my name.
Yet you choose to play the game all the same.
You were my goal.
Earthly pleasures,measured against your soul.

"Earthly pleasures? don't make me laugh,
last night I saw a helpless girl torn in half,
at my request,but your behest,I'm a puppet on a string,
screaming at the voice of doom that comes from within."

Chorus(Mr Sandman),so no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
you're ****** lucky that the devil chose me to follow...

(Jay) But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..hallowed be the shadows.

So no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
praise your god that the devil chose me to follow...

But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..your soul soon to follow.

I've tried every way to rid myself of your stain,
priests,exorcists,witches,all driven insane,

but a deal was struck,  "I was too young to know!,
that for a brief life of pleasure I was trading my SOUL,

Poor little bird. Sing a sorrowful song.
Use the word of your God but now your God's gone.
You try to hold on. It won't be long. You are a pawn.
Dwellin' in Hell and with demon spawn.

"AHHHHH,STOP...-your incessant gloating,
devil,demon in my hearts core floating,
if I had the subtlest knife I'd slice you out of my life,
instead of acting like a monster in a mockery,a half life,
please,I'm on my knees,but god's not listening,
as I look at more innocent blood glistening"

(Your new christening).A last act of contrition.
Baptism of fire. My ire still whispering

"he cried out to the sky cause he was lonely and scared,
but only the devil responded,Cause God wasn't there"-

And Now the Devil follows me every where that I go,
in fact I'm sure he's standing among one of you at my shows"

Chorus(Mr Sandman),so no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
you're ****** lucky that the devil chose me to follow...

But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..hallowed be the shadows

So no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
praise your God that the devil chose me to follow...

*But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..your soul soon to follow

slaves never owned the land nor themselves and its hard to imagine if we were ever free in every possible way  after Lincoln freed us.let me explain.master smiled  shook hands while giving us a piece of land seeds farming equipment and let us have credit at the corner store he owned where all ious were accepted plus the shanty that we used to fight off the wind rain dust storms snow belonged to him. lest I forget to known master also took most of the crops when they came in said it was to pay off our tabs. which left only enough food for our family to live on until the next crops came up. we watched this happen year after year until the tabs were taller than the trees that once hung us and left us dangling in the wind like bitter fruit thrown away with no thought with blood on the leaves than running down to its roots.

So What’s The Score … ?        
To Be Seen As … *******… !?!            
            
Being Lyrically RAW … !!!            
For Some Fa’ SURE … !!!            
            
Or Dropping BOMBS … !!!            
On Heads Through Songs …            
In …. Native Tongues.…            
I Guess For Some …              
Is … ******* Stuff … !?!            
            
******* Words …            
of … Curse-Filled Verse …            
Like Those That Run …            
Wordplay Like … ” **** ” … !!!!!            
Now Makes MILLIONS … !!!!!!            
Believe It Son … !!!!!            
            
Is That … ******* … ?!?            
            
Or Talk For ****** … !?!            
Whose Thoughts Are Poor …            
When It Comes To The Cause …            
of REALLY Being … ******* … !!!            
            
Well Here’s The Score … !!!            
My Wordplay STUNS …              
WITHOUT Taser Guns …            
Or Running Gums …            
To Prove I’m TOUGH … !!!            
    
My ******* Mind …            
Creates Fine Rhymes …              
That EXPOSE Crimes …              
I See In This Life …      
        
So My Rhyme Designs …            
Are ******* Lines …              
That Take The Stance …            
of A … RIGHTEOUS Man … !!!!!            
            
That’s QUITE A Claim … !!!            
******* … INSANE … !!?!!            
            
Hell Nah I’m Playing … !!!            
            
My Brain INFLAMES …            
Pages With REIGNS … !!!!!            
            
REGAL … NOT Slave …              
Unable To BREAK … !!!            
            
ABOVE The Snakes …            
Lyrically... A SAGE …. !!!            
            
Ya See ******* Talk …            
INSPIRED My Walk …            
Towards These Thoughts …            
To Source Lyrical Swords … !!!            
    
Wu Tang INSURED... !!!  
            
******* To Ya Pores …              
With … Lyrics of WAR … !!!!!            
            
No Blood Need Pour … !!!!!            
But THOUGHT Fa’ Sure … !!!            
I DO …. IMPLORE …. !!!!            
Ya Bring To The FORE … !!!            
To Join THE CAUSE …. !!!!!            
            
Lyricism Good For Rhythm … !!!!!            
Incision Filled With Scissors …            
That Cut With Skilled PRECISION … !!!!!            
You Suckers NEED TO Listen … !!!!!            
            
******* Does Not Mean KILLING … !!!!!            
Or Illin’ … Penicillin …            
Is That Good For Your Children … ?!?            
            
It’s Just Rhyme Flows I’m Bringin’ … !!!            
******* NO I’m Just Kiddin’ …            
            
See This Is Lyricism …            
Built With Witticism...              
Joke Filled … YES …            
For The … Women …              
            
Cos’ Jokes Help Man …            
Get …. In Em’ …. !!!!!            
            
Girls Who KNOW Be Grinnin’...          
Cos' ******* Bros' Be Winning...            
And Seeing **’s Like VISION …. !!!            
            
I See You Chose To Live In …            
A World of... " Western Fiction ” … ?!?            
            
It Seems It’s BROKE … !?!          
..... NO Fixing..… !!!!!            
            
No Jims or Joes Enlisted …          
That Line’s For Those With Children... !!!            
    
It’s Deeper Than You’re Thinking …            
Paedophiles Who Mess With Child …            
My ******* Vibe Gets WICKED … !!!!!!!            
            
I’d **** Them Up With QUICKNESS …              
YES Them And ALL THEIR Siblings … !!!            
    
Right Now Big Virge Ain’t KIDDIN’ … !!!!!!!!!            
These EVIL BREEDS Are SICKENING … !!!!!!            
I’d Cut Heads OFF Like Quickenings … !!!!!            
            
Highlander Slander …            
******* Gambler … !!!            
Take A Risk And Slit The Wrist …            
            
I Meant The NECK...              
of ANY ******* Racist Head … !!!            
            
******* And VEX …            
When YES … ” UPSET ” … !!!            
            
Silence Transcends …………            
To Make Things TENSE … !!!!!            
            
I’m A PEACEFUL MAN …            
So It Doesn’t Make SENSE … ?!?            
            
To Make ATTACKS …            
******* Like DEATH … !!!            
            
These Thoughts Expressed …            
Have … NO CONTEXT …            
Cos’ This Violence Rests …            
            
... Inside My Head... !!!  
    
******* Oh YES … !!!!!!            
Until I’m … DEAD … !!!!!!            
            
I’m A ******* Smoker …            
Well Some Say … ” JOKER ” …            
Who Gets Through Quotas …            
Like Stocks Do …. Brokers …. !!!!!            
            
NOPE NOT Bram Stoker … !!!            
AFRICAN Yes …            
But NOTHING LIKE Botha … !!!!!!            
            
Just A Breed Like Locust …              
Swarming WARNING Those Informing … !!!!!            
...... Watch Yo’self...… !!!!!!            
Them Cards You Dealt …            
May Just Have Spelt …            
A... ******* Tell …            
            
That’s Gone DAMAGE Your Health … !!!            
            
This Set of Rhymes …            
Is A ******* WRITE … !!!            
    
Now Across The Lines … !!!            
.... of My Notepad … !!!  
As My Mental GRABS … !!!            
These Words Like SLABS …            
With … COMMANDMENT Tabs … !!!!            
            
Thou Shalt Be RAW … !!!            
And Lead The Hoards … !!!            
Like Jim WITHOUT Doors … !!!!            
            
Thou Shalt Not FORCE … !!!            
Wordplay That’s Poor … !!!            
    
“My Prose rocks jaws            
of those on boards,
Yes, Corporate ****** !”            
            
Thou Shalt Face WAR … !!!            
And Deal With SCORN …            
From Ignorant Scores …            
Who You NEED TO Ignore … !!!            
Thou Virge Were Born To YES Adorn …            
            
Pages That Source …            
Verse Born From Thought …            
            
That Some Fa’ SURE … !!!!!            
Will Call ………            
    
… ” ******* ” … !!!!!

I’m never ever going to get any work done sitting at a computer
rather than with a pen in my hand and a thought on my mind.
In Arial black I will waste away my time
by sitting on a website designed to keep my mouth shut and my eyes glued
to the glowing screen of the worlds media, that I don’t really care about,
but yet I care too much about.
I open all of the tabs and write down very few words
and what ever happened to writing complete and utter nonsense
just for the hell of it?
And why did I ever open this laptop to write a poem
that will be cut off by a website calling for me to look at its pretty pictures
and witty text posts.
And why will this drivel make me feel so **** happy
when all it does is waste my time and lower my grades
and destroy my self esteem
that has already been mostly deleted?
Why do I decide to waste all of these moments with wishes
when I could go out and make them realities?
I sit on this computer and stare at the blankness of other peoples thoughts
and mock the imbeciles for wasting all of their time coming up with stupid rhymes
and sarcastic remarks that they think are hilarious ,
but really they are pointless.
And though I laugh at their foolishness;
they are no worse
than I.

I couldn’t help myself.
Digging my nails into myself wasn’t enough.

I didn’t want to bite my lip because in a few  days,
I’d be swapping spit with a stranger and I would have
No idea where he’d have been.

I squeezed down on my fingers,
And for a second
I thought I might snap one.

In my head, I was falling.
Even though he walked over
Placed his hand on my thigh,
Even though part of me wanted
To melt
And
Dissolve into his arms,
My mind was a million miles away.

Even as he bent over to look at me,
My eyes would not…
Could not...
Make contact.

He was just a blur.

I knew I was somehow holding my breath
And hyperventilating at the same time.

Was it really such a big deal?
So he woke me up and said some choice words.

Was he even yelling at me?

It felt like he was.

Ripped from nightmare to awaken into another.

It was everything I had not to lock myself in the bathroom,
And by lock, I mean...
Stuffing a towel into the hole where the doorknob was supposed to be, Pushing my back against the door
In a feeble attempt
To create some distance between me and the monster.

But besides the fact he could easily push the door open,
I wasn’t sure if the monster I was referring to was him.
Or within me.

The tissues piled up as I discreetly wiped my tears.
Don’t give him the pleasure of knowing he broke you.
But he knew
I stared blankly at the laptop in front of me,
Tabs open to self-harm help sites.
But I was just absent-mindedly scrolling,
The words barely sinking in.

Was I waiting for the moment to pass?
Or for him to leave me alone for a few seconds?

Somewhere in the distance an exasperated sigh
Signaled he’d grown weary of caring.
Or pretending to care.

My mind raced back and forth
Between demonizing him
And demonizing myself.

I heard the footsteps go down the stairs,
A fridge door open…
Then close.

And when the smell of food wafted up to where I sat, shaking..
I realized I’d be going hungry today.

But it didn’t seem to matter.

What mattered was the space I now had.

He had said I was bright red,
But  I could feel the color draining out of my face
As I held the lit lighter at an angle.

In this position,
The flames licked the metal,
Heating it to a purposeful degree.

Time slowed down.
As I lowered the cheap 7-11 Bic to my skin,
I made the conscious decision to choose an area I could cover.

Contact!
Chills suddenly trickled down my spine,
Every neuron ablaze,
And for a brief second:
Bliss.
Relief.
Release
Relapse.
.
It was nowhere near as good as a blade.
But I couldn’t afford more scars.
At least not the kind that would take weeks to heal.

I pulled the blanket
The one I had made before my grandmothers death,
Around my shoulders.
Lit the green trinket again,
Kissed it to the skin of my ankle.

Once.
Twice.
Three times.

By the fourth I knew I had to stop.
Not because I’d be caught.
No he was downstairs
Enjoying the food I slaved away to make yesterday.
I was convinced none would be saved for me....

I had to stop because I could feel myself ramping up and the goal was discretion.
Lest I be accused of trying to manipulate him.
The pain radiated upwards, a warm stab against chilled skin.

Suddenly, I was exhausted.
I wanted to close my eyes and sleep.
Instead, I took a swig from the bottle
Nestled against the foot of the bed.
Silence fell over the house, and even though
At the edges of my consciousness
I could pick up on the low tones of conversation,
The buzzing in my ears drowned out those nuances.

“Maybe I should just lay down for a second.”

Time passed, and once again he was in the room.
Despite hearing him come in, I still jumped when he touched me.
I forced myself to direct my gaze, but it all felt empty.
Words were coming out of his mouth.
Where they questions?
He was calling me weird.
Telling me how I was bringing down the energy in the room with my depression.

He asked me  something and I nodded.
Once.
Twice.

Suddenly he disappeared.

He seemed happy.
Like in some twisted way, my brokenness brought him joy.
Squirreled himself away
In the bathroom I had original wanted to esape to.

I wondered...
If he was ******* to the idea of my wanting to **** myself.

I shook the thought off.
It wouldn’t be surprising.
It didn’t make a difference.

I couldn’t tell how many minutes bled away, but I eventually arose.
Tossed off the covers.
Lit a cigarette.
And allowed the numbness to take over.

As badly as I wanted to sleep, I knew dreams would offer no respite.
My mind merely cycled
Through suicidal scenarios I could not give into.

This is reality.
The last few days were an illusion.
I wish I was brave enough to draw a last breath,
but knew I had no option but to keep living.

My idea of a good night is staying in
And technology serves as my friend
With a glass of wine or bottle of brew in my hand
Talking to a list of favorable foes on the web
Where conversations boarder between flirty and scholarly lines
And typed dialogues lead way to theoretical thoughts and inspirational designs
Pondering ignites a spark that surges in my mind
I’ll begin to research the fast array of thoughts that run through my brain
Fixated on scientific data, predicted trends and worldly traits
Eventually it’s not enough for my thought
I’ll try to fight the inevitable feeling that starts to form in my gut
Leading way to the breeding ground for butterflies
Factual documents begin to get lost in the shuffle
As my attentions now caught by an excerpt or rousing photo
New tabs are opened over the old
And I always find myself ending at the same place
Looking up poems about love and images elapsed from past days

opening to the good
closing to the past
not forgetting
but giving myself space

I have too many tabs open
for my soul to regulate

As dreadful as an eruption
Deceased like winter
Chest tightening
And fists clenching
As roses ***** right in the throat
Used razor blade on one hand
And tabs of acid on the other
A vast and lonesome world
Population: one-half
Two mindsets coming in unison
Psychedelic tendencies, suicidal thoughts
Insanity occupying a dystopic atmosphere
Swirling smokes, colourful spheres
Intensifying a bloodshed scene
Three, two, one, a blue-green string cut
"Don't do it!" they yelled
"It's not worth it!" they said
But too late, Death grinned at their faces
No pulse, no heartbeat, no memories
No single presence of bliss
Just a cold, pale,
Lifeless
Body in the dark abyss

*-djs