Minds drawing blanks
To this semi loaded weapon
As broken ear gets spoken upon
By wasteful youth, spewing out mouthfuls
Speech impediments, Speech impairments
Drink to slur your words upon empty promises
Rhythms get tapped out, Rhymes get sung out
Blurred out visions, eye twitches
A sight looking out onto the decaying world
That closes in around the primitive creature
Stir crazed, Trapped and enveloped within its own self mutilation
Its embodiment shivers, shattering dreams
As it looks for the warmth of a blanketed soul
To be swept away like yesterday's recycled tradegy
Ripped torn apart otherwise dumped at its wayside
Tortured by its own demise
The jagged knife slices deep into its wrist
To only impeach a livelihood
Within its own words and steps
Wondering where to go on forth
From this plateau of mystifications
Truth be told, truth be had
Jack the pearl of the living psyche

read this aloud, mind the punctuation,
and, finally,
enjoy.


amethyst eyes alight with nighttime lightning, clapping lashes spark ruminations rumbling across the savannah of memory imprinting in me the afterimage of Now.   Now, Now makes me hers -- though i’m more willing a captive than she imagines: imprisoned in the present, tasting the electricity resounding in this soundless cell () deafeningly solid --
she grooves before me.
slowly rolls me
me rolls slowly  
molasses boiling tongues twisting towards me
ba-da doom ba-doom doom doom.

i don’t know if it’s the fireflies caught in midnight-amber jars suspended by strands of suicidal curls tumbling down the pitch of your back,
or
your touch, come tentatively, but nonetheless titillating, for it softly pleas me to get grounded, stay a while in the timbre of warm fireside conversation and cocoa,
or
your teacup of a navel compelling i to lift laughter, fish up reminiscences, and transcend time,
or
when you lean close and lick me with your eyelash, as if a butterfly’s kiss,
or
your soft voice smoothly singing songs of four-lettered blues .   .     .

.     .   . my god you’re gorgeous.

dance with me, Now     for two more turns of the moon let’s defy posterity and traverse the curves of each other’s words and purge our selves of self     let’s anesthetize Now, marinate in the moment, savor the silence and become sap-trapped fossils left for the future     let’s live a lifetime together in two more turns of the moon, Now,     so that I may memorize every quark of every electron of every neutron of every proton of every atom of every ion of every molecule of every cell of every sinew of every tissue of every ***** and every system of all your beauty, Now, you are perfect because you are am is and will never be anywhere else but here and nothing else but Now.

feel me?
   feel her?

      feel here?


Now.

These concrete streets
And passing cars
Have become my new
Jail cell bars.
Trapped in a city
Full of strangers
Got me feeling so empty,
And alone.
Surrounded by gray buildings
And even grayer faces
All speeding past
In their own rat races.
Round here
Everything looks the same,
And there's no cheer,
But baby there's no pain.
And round here
The colors have bled out
And there's nothing left but gray
Within and without.
We're all so empty,
Broken and alone,
Trapped in this city
That is no longer home.

This coffin
    I inhabit
         Floats along the nonexistence
    Of space
And time

        In such a way as to make me forget what comfort ever was
     Days become eons
Trapped in a box reeking of death and lacking in emotion
     I become nothing more than a trained chimp
            Acting out "living" as I see actual humans do

all for a few measly peanuts

*yes oh yes I wouldn't mind if this rolling coffin crashed and burned if for nothing more than to end this surreal nightmare of not existing

I often glance at you
But fear my eyes will get trapped in your gaze
Like staring into the sun
Aimlessly
To the point of unconsciousness
My mind drifting through space and time

And then...

...silence

Your head shifts away and the spell finally...

...breaks

if my eyes could tell a story,
it would be about how it wore glasses,
how love used to be blurry until you came along,
you were like the last snowflake during winter
and the first flower that bloomed in spring.
my eyes liked to tell me a story
about how you were the shore and i, the waves,
about the origin of the stars
and how your eyes were to blame

if my lips could tell a story
they’d tell you that they longed to be pressed to yours
blow stars down my throat,
bring me back to life
take me to a place that feels like home
wrapped in your arms as the morning sun
poured across our skin

if my knees could tell a story,
they’d tell you about how they would quiver
every time your voice echoes through the room
and latches onto my soul,
they describe the feeling of the rough, cold ground
as i fall on them, accidentally bruising myself,
hopelessly losing my mind,
begging for your hands, positioned on my back,
pulling me towards you like gravity streaming on us

if my hands could tell a story
they’d trace the outline of your lips and your eyes
i was never good at maths
but i could count
the spaces between your ribs,
my fragile hands trailing down every inch of you,
planting seeds down your spine that will, grow, rise,
into flowers almost as lovely as your smile

if my veins could tell a story
it’d tell you how you drove your love into them,
aiming for my arteries,
how you were a galaxy to me,
leaving stardust and moonbeams
flowing through my body
you were never mine, but i wish you were
my veins told me a story of how they were lonely
and how they wanted to carry you, back to my heart
because they knew that that was where you belong

if my heart could tell a story
it would be one of hope, one of longing
two hearts beat in sync,
trapped beneath the weight of the world
you are everything I want
you are the poem I cannot finish, I don’t even know where to start
you are the exit wound, biting through skin
a hole in my chest where my happiness sinks into

No use to fight the bloodshot eyes
Stained from the tears I cry
And Your love that is seeming to die

I sit

Light?
I need none,  just wanna feel a buzz


Yet nobody kills the high of your lust better than you
That pedestal I put you on has sky scraped my heart raw
Yet the pain keeps me wanting fix
Fistfuls of tears and hate we ****** at each other
Burning our trust
Til the smoke exhausts us
Time stops and forgiveness is brought
I love you’s and fantasies are from silent thoughts to passionate exchanges
We seal our soon to be broken promises with a kiss
A pattern so sweet my tongue can’t seem to keep itself off of you

The rain could never drown me, for I stand beneath you
My umbrella
Beholding patches
Exposing the brisk to my lips
Cheeks would be stained red if I was a shade of pale
Embarrassed,
To be seen trapped within this thing of sorts which you call love

they come fast
puncturing my very soul
my body only a coffin
if they stay trapped

it is torture
this feeling of eagerness
relentless fists punching
through my very chest

once my sternum breaks
blood, bone and marrow
splats on the digital canvas

pouring out everything
to the last drop
of creative blood

though satisfied
of the ******
what I see before me
is strategic
as a general in war

a visual interpretation
of society
feeding the design of
consumerism

Oh yes this work
of my blood, flesh and bone
they will consume in such
drunk laughter

like cannibals they
will judge, speak, and post
of the visual
that lead them to
experience the indulgent gorge

Love.

It's such an easy word to scoff at.
We are born with our parents
nursing us on it.
With promises of never letting
that well run dry.
We live the rest of our lives
dedicated to finding that love in another person.
To discover that true, pure chemistry with someone.

As much as I hate to admit it
I want all of this and more.
I'm only human.
I just can't break out of this cage.
A cage built on a foundation of
ignorance, Jesus, loneliness, and hate.

That must be what a tiger feels like.
Living everyday enclosed by thick glass walls
watching everyone else live the life you want.
To be able to walk outside
with my fingers interlocked with the person I care about most
Without being stared at
Without being told it's unhealthy
Without having bibles thrown at us.

I'd ask my parents to make me free
But they'd just swallow the key
So I'd stay in there forever.
Because letting me breathe the outside air
would be conceding to what their upbringings told them.
It would be admitting that their baby boy is abnormal.

Somehow they didn't get me the memo
that I can't share my love the same way the normal people can.
That I'll never be able to feel the soft skin of my own child
or be able to hang a piece of paper on my wall
announcing my promise to keep my love forever.

You know, it's not like
I ever wanted to be in here.
I didn't choose to be trapped.
I didn't choose to have my life criticized and nitpicked.
I didn't choose to feel like a pariah.
If there was any choice involved
It certainly wouldn't be this.

I spend my life screaming
and pounding the glass
hoping people hear me but
really wanting to hit hard enough
to shatter some of the glass
and let the shards meet my skin
so I can feel something other than
guilt
shame
and embarrassment.

For now, I just stand hear
Wishing, hoping, needing
Someone to see me.
Someone to hear me.
Someone to find a key
And free me.

A poem written by my heart so every single word you hear is a pulse.
I’m a literary writer trapped inside the mind of a spoken-word poet.
I stood in the rain patiently awaiting the arrival of freedom but then I eventually realised that it was the rain.
People keep talking about a rainbow nation but I only saw a glimpse of that when I looked out my windowpane.
I wrote plenty peaceful poems picturing politicians perpetuating poverty.
Frankly speaking, I could write more but that’s an anthology for another day.
Even if things don’t always go our way, I just hope that everything will be okay.
Freedom is just an illusion but my conclusion is subjective due to my frame of reference.
Not even Mandela money could buy me freedom in a dollar-based economy.
In a country saturated with poverty, politicians are still protecting their pockets.
I wish I knew how to liberate an imprisoned man who cannot mentally be free.
The prison of his mind is depriving him of all the greatness that he could be.

There are millions of questions I can’t find the courage to ask.
But even if I did, I probably wouldn’t get all the answers.
I probably wouldn’t be able to fully accept the truth.
There are millions of questions I can’t seem to find the answers to.
I wrote plenty peaceful poems picturing politicians perpetuating poverty.
I stood in the rain patiently awaiting the arrival of freedom but then I eventually realised that it was the rain.
View the kaleidoscope of life through the perspective of a spoken-word poet.
Freedom is like finding forever and I hope that everyone in here knows it.
Let’s all meet in the pages of a story where the ink holds us together.
A poem written by my heart so every single word you hear is a pulse.

Love is a tough safe to crack,
But if you come prepared, with your instructions packed,
Brought the right equipment and your mind is intact,
You can open it with ease,
And receive the treasure that’s trapped.
Still there are people, too eager for waiting,
Anxiously cracking the safe
With the hammer of impatience.
But what you’ll end up breaking
Is not only the safe
Destroying all the treasures enclosed,
But also your back,
From swinging the hammer too far back.
Now in the back of your mind,
You’re ****** because you shattered your spine.
You can only sit, thinking of the bliss
You could have had if you just took your time.
Paralyzed from the neck down, and you can believe it,
Jeopardized your love life just from swinging
That **** hammer of impatience
Which made you Love’s paraplegic.

i woke up with his arm around me
his heavy arm keeping me still
i saw the anchor on his skin
like he could nail me to the water
and i didn't even know how to swim
i was trapped under my drunken sailor
aboard his flaming cruise
his eyes that once loved me
relayed empty words that bruised
they filled my lungs with every breath
there's no room for me on his life boat
i'm just breathing in the water
as if suddenly i'd float
i don't even know if i made it
but if you're wondering, i probably didn't
you'll find my bones on the bottom of the ocean
next to the remnants of his ship

I feel trapped

trapped in time

time moves so slowly and there is no way of escaping it

you want to be in the past

too bad

you want to be in the future

*******

time moves at whatever pace it pleases

and you have nothing to do about it

its like a train, there isnt even a bus driver to yell at

even worse the train moves at weird paces

sometimes its lightning fast

and other times its the slowest thing ever

most of the time for me its the slowest thing

because im done

but time says im not

im ready for kids and a family of my own that i love

but im not there yet

time wont let me be there yet

This silence is too loud to bear.
As the internal screams pierce the stale air.
My feet feel nailed to the ground;
although I'd like to run away
I'm trapped by all that's around.
My prayers to God are shouted at the top of my lungs - in my private room.
still it seems only a whisper he cannot discern - when done praying the problems resume.
Though I'm surrounded by friends, family & those I love so dearly,
I feel so alone, secluded & lost as I can never express myself clearly.
They shower me with praise, or appreciation or reassurance
My auto-reply is "Thank you" while inside I'm losing endurance.
They say "you're so strong. Keep up the good deeds"
Yet no one asks me if I'm fulfilling all my needs.
Financially secure, well-fed & comfortable home.
In a job that I despise, eating unbalance unhealthy meals, and feeling so alone.
The internal screams get louder with each passing day
As I wonder when they will become so loud that God finally finds me a way
To find peace
Silent the screams
The internal torment
Deliver me from these demons
That haunt me & taunt me
And seek to devour me
So that I can hear The sweet sounds of silence again.

Mind if I play pretend?*

What if it was you and me
on a breezy hill

         overlooking nothing but grass

                                                       grass

grass waving to the wind
like waves that never crash

would you sit beside me
and stare at it
be silent
comfortable enough
in each others' thoughts?

I would watch you
from the corner of my eye
and you would be
smiling

(I always have you smiling in my mind)

your perfect bangs ruined
tousled
yet beautiful.

I'd watch your magic eyes
flashing
shining
bright.

boy with the old poet's soul.

looking at the same field
yet you'd see it better
than I

you will capture the parts that contain the unexplainable
and hold it
in your heavenly rucksack

while all I have are
eyes bending the light,
making sense of the colors.

your mouth will not open
you do not tell me what you see

but you free what you've trapped
in your poetry

and there do you give

you to me.

The very walls I built
To keep the clutter out
Suffocate me daily
Shutting me in with my thoughts
Questioning my decisions
testing my patience.
Was I wrong? Or right?
Have I added to my mistakes?
Will I wake up tomorrow?
The burden overwhelms me
I fear that I will give in
To the heartwrenching fear
Of the unknown.
A weight settles on me
Bearing down on my chest
I heave breath after troubled breath
who knows if it's my last?
I prepare myself for death
Sink into nothingness below
For there are no worries
nothing but stillness.
No,I will not let the reaper close
But how to deal with my pain
That is anew everyday
I find fault with the sun and moon
No one to distract me
From these savage insecurities
hounding at my door
am I pretty enough? Strong?
can I do it? Will I succeed?
it seems I am doomed to doubt
Trapped by inequities
and someday I just hope
These walls will be solace
And not my jailer.

I wonder if you're lonely,
Somewhere out beneath the vibrant colors,
The oohs and the awes,
Always make my heart ache,
I wonder if you feel it like I do,
Or if you hold another's hand,
Long washed passed,
Like oceans and sand,
These days I've nearly given up it seems,
On romance and dreams,
The distance between us,
Like the echoes of sound after the crackle and boom,
I remember when you were lonely,
A girl trapped in her world,
Trapped in her room.
I wish darling flower,
That I could be the heart
That  makes you ooh and awe,
I wish perhaps one more moment,
that for a moment you saw,
how special you are to me,
That I could make you bloom.

First Base: Innocent words turn into gentle hands moving slowly yet rapidly from the stick shift to her thighs, wondering if leaning in would be moving too quickly or just the fact that maybe she wasn't ready to be moving at all.

Second Base: They're in his room now, both of which don't even know how they ended up there.
It's quiet though,
she liked quiet,
it reminded her of her childhood.
She observes the room like a rotation fan set to low,
slowly,
yet patently.
She notices all the pens & papers scattered all over his desk. His laptop was accidentally left open. It seems to be some sort of unfinished piece she finally manages to realize; she gets up from the squeaky bed & attacks it with grace, it reads:
"             *Feathers
      Her skin looked raw,
But the kind of raw
       You could still devour &
Not get sick from.
       I loved her, yet I didn't
Even know what
       Her favorite book was,
Or if she liked
        Sushi as much as I did.
I don't know if
        I will ever be the same
Again after laying
        My eyes on her.
I couldn't imagine
        Laying my hands
On her thighs or
        Kissing her while she
Was smiling.
         I wish I could tell
Her that..."
He slams the macbook shut at an attempt to stray as far away as possible from any further embarrassment.
She was frozen.
As was he.
He knew deep down inside of him he wanted her to read that, because he was never good at expressing his feelings face to face & maybe that's okay; but somewhere else trapped inside of him said that just because she's in your room alone with you does not mean in any way that she will ever remotely feel the same way towards you.
But a wise man once told him that if you're alive & well, & you're not doing everything that terrifies you, then what would be the point of living; & he now lives his life off of that minute & a half conversation with that homeless man outside of the starbucks that is right down the street from his house.
He went for it, he took flight of his life & his actions & went in for the thing he wanted most; *her.
The roughness in their innocent kisses would have been Rated R from the way you could taste the passion & it had the potential to make every bone in your body evaporate & leave you with nothing but your memories of what it used to be like to be able to taste.

Third Base: Clothes turned from magnets to grasshoppers in the matter of seconds. Everything was a fast paced blur. Skin was being ripped open, yet no blood was being ejected. No amount of candles could cover up the scent of sweat that was polluting the room. Songs are made from the sounds that were being created in this studio. The only thing keeping them apart was their own skin, & even that could barely do the job.

Fourth Base: They layed there, in awe; not thinking about the homework they hadn't finished, or that his parents probably heard the entire thing, or at the fact that the world had never moved so quickly in the same moments that time was in the midst of a game of freeze tag. No more worries about the future. Only love for what was going on in this moment. The way she curled up to his body reminded him that love can only come from the light. Her dark lipstick that was stamped all over his body reminded him that only beautiful things can come out of the dark.

Blustering beats as her feet pound on the pavement
Racing against the world in what feels like a single heartbeat.

She’s been running for miles, losing herself in a world that can no longer decipher which way is up and which way is down.

He’s been running for eternity, seeking the girl who has always been nothing more than the whimsical melody that the birds carry throughout the wind.

Running and running and running some more.
But what do you do when your feet start to get sore?
When you’re tired of running and running some more?

----<3----

She’s gotten up only to fall again.
He’s been dragged as if by an invisible hand.
The chains bound both prisoners in unending journeys.

But they created a fire that burned brighter then hell, broke free and ran fast
until daylight fell.

Swallowed in darkness with paths intertwined.
They ran and kept running with no source of guide.

She ran too fast.
She lost him.
He’s gone.
Her heart’s screaming “No!” but her mind’s saying “Move on”.

Getting lost ain’t so bad if you block out the pain.
Run.
Run.
Run.
You’ll be okay.

She stood still for a moment and took a deep breath.
Her heart racing,
Her limbs shaking,
She was scared half to death.

There she stood like a rose, hiding behind thorns to contain herself in an unbreaking barrier.  

He fought and he fought and he fought to get in.
But her barriers held strong and his fight against them left him ridden with scars.
----<3----
Determined.  
Devoted.
Desperation.
Desire.
He fought, is still fighting to overcome her exterior.

The thorns might hold strong as a natural defense,
But hidden within is a rose that is wilting.

She wants to give up,
To fly high in the sky
Like the three little birds that are passing her by.

They’re tweeting and chirping without a care in the world.
Oh how she’d give to get lost like that.

Ha, how absurd!

----<3----

It’s so dark.
She can’t see.
The moonlight is hidden.

SNAP.
CRUNCH.
A breaking twig.

He found her!
He’s here!
Go!
Run away!

Her mind tried to warn her.
But her heart said to stay.
Who is to say which knows the right way?

Running and running and running some more.
But what do you do when your feet start to get sore?
When you’re tired of running and running some more?

----<3----

Blindly she ran.
The trees were a blur.
The vines and the leaves,
The whole world behind her.

Faster and faster and faster she went.

She might not be happy, but she’s safe at last.
Her heart is safe from the pain of the past.

Her defenses are back, no more being afraid
Of the man who was stealing her heart day by day.

He searched every tree in his mission to reach her,
But she’s no longer in sight.

He’s lost her.

----<3----

She ran like the wind.
Faster and faster and faster than…
…slower?

She fell to the floor.
The vines grabbed at her leg.

Too fast.
Too fast.
She should have slowed down.
She’s so tired of fleeing.
She just wants to be found.  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I wanted to stay.
I miss you.
I want you.
God, why am I always running away?”

----<3----

Sobbing and sobbing and sobbing some more.
Her ankle is stuck.
She’s sprawled on the floor.

It looks like it’s broken.
But it will be fine.
Her heart is the problem.
Because it’s no longer “mine”.

She wants him.
She ran.
It’s always the same.
The insecurities convince her she must run away.

She’s always abandoned.  
Always forgotten.
The best of the best can quickly turn rotten.

He stopped running to find her.
He’s not giving up.
He’s just tired, so tired.
Like, “What the ****?!”

Why did she leave?
“Come back! ******* a!
I miss you.
I love you.
Why couldn’t you stay?”

Two souls that are broken are breaking again.
They’re both lost, they’re both losing.
It looks like the end.

She’s curled up with leaves on the cold forest floor.
He’s gripping his head pacing like a caged dog.

His thoughts are so loud.  
He just wants her back.
But her crying is louder,
Her heart’s out of whack.

The darkness is welcomed.
The cold is refreshing.
He’s starting to cry just out of frustration.

Dismembered.
Forsaken.
Defeated.
Distressed.
Two souls that are lost among all the rest.

----<3----

He couldn’t stay there.  
He needed to move.
So he walked and he walked and he walked on some more,
Only stopping to rest when his feet began to feel sore.

Propping himself against a tree, he tried to understand why,
Why she left when his heart was beginning to fly.

The birds sang for them.
The stars knew their story.
Every heartbeat felt right, every day a new journey.

And now, it’s so empty.
The seconds tick by.
The world’s in slow motion.
All because of goodbye.

He closes his eyes and leans his head back.
Only then does he hear it,
A soft little crack

----<3----

The leaves are rustling.
A twig just broke.

A lizard?
A squirrel?
Some sick twisted joke?

Whatever it is, the sound gave him hope.
Maybe it’s her?
He could hardly cope.

Climbing to his feet, he sought out the noise.
The sounds grew louder to his surprise.

He first heard a muffled groan from below.
But the closer he got, the sobs seemed to grow.
He knew that voice.
It was her!
Up ahead.
God, he couldn’t wait to see her again.

He ran and kept running with one goal in mind.
He’d find her.
She’s here.
She can no longer hide.

----<3----

She tried to get up but her ankle gave out,
So she yelped and then quickly, she covered her mouth.

Who knew what was out there?
The night was still black.
She was tired of fighting,
She wanted him back.

Her sobbing grew louder as she laid there like that.
She felt helpless.
Alone.
She wanted him back.

Her heart began to pound when she heard a noise behind her.
He’s here.
It’s him.
He actually found her.

Her mind screamed to keep running,
But her heart begged to stay.
Lord, she was tired of running away.

Her ankle was injured,
So there she sat trapped,
With leaves in her hair and tears in her lap.

Waiting and waiting and waiting some more.
Today is the day her whole body is sore.

She’s tired of running from the things she wants most.
So she looks up and searches for her handsome ghost.

He’s hidden nearby.
She senses him there.
Her body is tingling from his secret stare.

----<3----
He catches her eyes seeking him in the dark,
But he’s nervous she’ll run so he stays behind bark.

Watching and watching and watching some more,
Until he sees tears running down her sweet face.

Her agony kills him, his heart won the race.

He’s broken.
She’s breaking.
The waiting must end, so he swoops in and saves her like no other can.

Sinking down to his knees, he wraps up his beauty
As sobs overtake them in a moment of unity.

----<3----

Even though their worlds crashed, the past is the past.
They’re holding each other,
Together at last.

Only when her sobs seize does she begin to see
The tears in his eyes put there by thee.

She broke him by running,
But that’s all she knew.
Oh how she wishes he already knew that she loved him,
Still loves him,
More than the stars
The world’s nonexistent in a place like “ours”.

Their sorrow has eased, for they’re home at last.
The running and running is dead in the past.

The night is still dark, but they both haven’t noticed,
Because they have grasped onto their saving light within all the darkness.

Together they burn brighter than the largest fire ever made.
No words are needed, just the promise to stay.

It screams louder and louder and louder some more,
Until the whole forest is cast with love galore.

----<3----

Moaning.
Sweet kisses.
A song made of gasps.
The forest floor spattered with loves brightest match.

Sweating and trembling from their passionate throws,

“I miss you”s.
“I love you”s.
Their stories unfold, only to be raveled again in a blanket of “happily ever after”s.
----<3----
Soaring through life, she’s as happy can be
Bundled in the arms of only he.

“******* a, I love you.  It’s crazy, I know.  But let’s run away where no one will ever know.”

She looked at him, and then shook her head no.
“I’m tired of running, because with you I’m free.  My heart is safe here, I will no longer flee.
**** running, it *****.  My feet always get sore.  I’m staying, not running, not running no more.”

The look in her eyes made his heart skip a beat,
Their feet may be sore,
But they’re willing to leap.

Flying and flying and flying some more.
This time I’m not tired so baby,
Lets soar.

The floor was strewn all over
With children’s toys and books
With ***** clothes and rotting food
And sticky disgusting Popsicle wrappers
With shoes and socks and dishes
And garbage
With cat hair and dog ****
And dead plants that never had a chance
Splats of ketchup and mustard adorned the counter tops
And smears of chocolate and grease covered the refrigerator door  
Inside the sink the roaches crawled freely over the never washed dishes
The air was filled with the toxic ammonia of cat **** and spoiled left overs
A layer of dust covered every book and nick knack never touched on the shelves
Every place to sit was sticky and hairy
And your shoes became trapped to an increasingly vile floor
The garbage can filled to over flowing
With more bags of garbage sitting waiting to be taken elsewhere and two grown adults never bothering to take them
And quite seriously the mother of this outfit dares scold the little boys and bellows at them to clean their rooms
Seriously!  What the hell!
The air so filled with dust and hair and cigarette smoke is a nightmare even for those not suffering of asthma or allergies
I think I now know what is meant by “We were all yellow”
And the bathroom
Oh my god the bathroom
It might have surpassed the filth of the worst road trip gas station bathroom
A gross grey film covering every inch of every surface rings of repulsive ghastly filth covered over in endless dust and grime and drips and drops and hair and *** and blood
And still more garbage stinking putrid garbage
Never removed
And all household members sitting staring blankly at the filthy television screen or mindlessly surfing the net at the half broken computer
Except the children who got no attention
No love
And had no hope of positive reinforcement
One lighting the tacky and ratty cotton curtains on fire
the other standing on a chair in the middle of the room and peeing on the floor
as the baby sister sat fat and screaming in her own filth
hair matted by chocolate fudge pop
she was too young to have been given
all the children’s clothing was soiled and covered in food
Presumably from days of wearing the same clothing
Because no one cared for them
Or for themselves
What was the point of giving these children life?
Or toys or pets to play with
If only to ruin all they had
Which was meager to begin with
What is the point of setting up house
If only to fail to keep it clean
And to yell and fight constantly  
Relying only on the past experiences of your own childhood and never to even try
To rise above it
Living life in your imagined trauma
And creating for your family very real and lasting trauma
But you’ll never give a ****,
You’ll never grow up,
You’ll never see the consequences of your actions just barley scraping by the law
Someone called me worthless once
And many people think I am barley adequate
But I would rather be adequate
Then be genuinely worthless and horrid
I would rather be caring and honest
Then a pig headed ***** constantly screaming at my children but doing absolutely nothing myself
Living my life with no empathy and no emotions but my own thinking only of myself and what I want
Thinking about ways to make others do for me giving nothing in return
So I will forget about you wasted people and your unfortunate children
I will tend to my house, my family, and my work
And I will not let my past become my future
I will improve myself and my life
Being grateful for the things I have
And learn not to covet what others have
I will be stronger then the pigs I suffered through living with
And I will be happy to be adequate
Happy to be free of swinish people
And be the me that I have become

She played it well,
so **** good like a busketball game,
but hell broke loss when
caught between the devil and the dillema.

She was a player such a **** poor one,
she never knew when to play her cards right,
bet she read the wrong menu when it came to killing two birds with one stone.

Her timing was poor,
but not so bad at it than how she failed to tell lies.
She would cry upon vanity all day long,
and let the poor boys believe they where the only ones.(i call them boys because they were not men enough to see)

She could have just practiced paliamory, ohh no i oppose on that.
What love could it have been for two people when she knew she loved only one.

Now her family and freinds are trapped in her lies,
defending the other guy from the other (they are being fooled).

As much as we were groomed and told to give away our toys.
i believe its time she lets go
for her mourns, tears and screams have come to the extent of reaveling to the whole world how naive but not innocent she is.

"A holstered product secretly hunts after its own end product-"

                    "-not metal targets nor flying geese, but mortality."

A man, with graying hair and pursed lips, told me this. A well-trained and prayered piety had crept along, pounced, and overcome him. Like Edison, a creative obsession gripped his spine and puppeteered the entire body. It was a plague, he called it, or something like that. Even at a young age, gaurdian 1 & 2 lulled him to the steeple's hiding. He noted how the steeple was always at mast. His children would observe the same detail, live the same routine. I studied the curious character for weeks. A facsimile of the Word seemed permanently pressed on his brain, trapped behind devout eyes- For weeks I studied him, give me more time! Each biblical page was scribbled and creased, share and reused. -no longer. "My holster found its mortal tonight, friend. I'll raise the barrel and create a grand scene."

Slight pause, heavy breathe, slow speak. "Colossal at best."

by Kendra Cook