Blasted armor cracked open with holes
Watch as I crawl on my knees til I find
The right place to stand. Pay no mind
To the pain wracking burned flesh to
The pain of memories empty now
In regret after so many years spent
Trying to escape, desperately forget
All of the wounds that made me the
Fire I am.

These days my fire still burns down low
I can't forget if I wanted and I did and
And it drove me underneath. Unearth
Me now in this old aching body to
Undermine my quest for rest.
I sure it's just death now bringing
Death and I'm a part of it.

Cog. In the dirt. Wet earth.
I rise. With all of my brethren.
Reclaim. Reclaimers hunt and
Claim during night. Safety in
Day. That's a queer sunset isn't it?

I came here ******, left the same way,
Returned with cracks in the head
And a heart of mud full of maggots
As an *****. We all did. We do.
We all did.

Haven asked to provide my voice
To stick out my neck for the
Cause of continued well-being
Of the whole cast
But I can't begin to begin
The charade. I accept the
Knife for only one reason: the pay.

Yes I do this. To line my pockets.
I don't care if your work life
Burns you alive. I return home
To provide and you're dense if
Another way makes more sense.
Shut up, cause it doesn't. I'm
Right and you're wrong. I want
Nothing to do with this song.
Let me retire in peace.
Shut the **** up.
Shut it off.
We mix the two and it hurts.

I've got a **** right there between my legs
It hangs and grows like another ***** might
It's a shame the reality goes over your head
I **** sometimes like a **** truck punching
On all cylinders, I **** sometimes lying
With legs open wanting and exposed
I've got a **** right there between my legs
It hangs and grows like any **** does
It's a shame reality goes right over your head
I altered my consciousness.
I altered my brain.
I altered my hormones.
My testosterone's gone.
My estrogen's over ******* full.
Call me what you want but
My experience is beyond.
Beyond.

"My home life isn't the best," I said.
"It doesn't have to be," she said.


BADLANDS BLEAT


Okay, I said it again. Getting out of bed was the worst part of the day. To begin, the marijuana haze from the night before never went away and left me sore. Sure it was likely enough to ease some of the pain, but in the morning my body stood and got to working slowly like it wasn't eager at all. Only the thought of fast food coffee got me pumped up, not even half-mast at that. If the **** I called erotica to save face couldn't bribe a competent rise out of me, the daily grind certainly couldn't get it done. Impetus again, every time in two week increments. Sure, I had money in the pockets of my sweat pants for the coffee and treats that I charged on a credit card years ago when I had the means -- but I was living with family. A prison sentence delivered by a cruel twist of fate that I caused myself in the first place. Nothing to blame but the errors in my own transactions. Much better than before, still not in charge of anything more than my mistakes. I didn't talk much. Who needed to know? I fulfilled the bare basic requirements of my peers so I could stay stealth. I had pills to eat. I ate them at home. I had meals to eat, and I ate them alone. Company was always safer to keep in a cigarette. Lucky me, when I ran into other smokers you would think they spoke for a need to keep their lips wet. There was a freedom in the chance to sit around a circle taking in information without the pressure to reciprocate. Four years running, I'd made choices in the Fall that brought all my work down. The scribbles and notes attached to cork board, reliably lost in a pile of clothes, paper and thumb tacks. Living with no other luggage made the journey more bearable during the dark days. It helped practice ignorance of others when I barely kept myself well.

At this point I feel like the universe is mocking me.
It might not be that I don't see god, but that I can't.
The past comes fast to bite my heels every time I
think that I'm making progress. I'm wiser now than
I was before, it's clear, I affirm as I take today's pills
so I can step out the door. Suicide was a big deal
but I never did it. Over time I realized how good
it is to choose friends. How safe it is to manipulate --
over self-destruction, what an improvement. A
sad sea of years is only bad with a lack of grasp
on the force that pushes you with an eager
wind. How safe is it to say, simply that I've changed
for the better and made improvement?

We broke the truce way back when,
you thought I was God and I couldn't prove it.

History repeats with a new veneer. A new sheen
to improve the wrapping of the package.
The package's contents remain the same.
History repeats with a new veneer. A new sheen
to improve the wrapping of the package.
The package's contents remain the same.
History repeats with a new veneer. A new sheen
to improve the wrapping of the package.
The package's contents remain the same.

I say I'm
not looking
for love but
I'm looking
I'm catching
cold glances
from eyes filled
with the weight of
sorrow been cast in gold
My purposeful fingers
reach up for money from
the gutters, this,
is just what I'm told.
Enter my ears,
enter my eyes,
enter my skin,
into my lungs.
I'm not breathing
oxygen if I exhale
byproduct. I'm out
of luck, won't press it.
I'm out of reason in
speech. Beyond
preventable death.
Regret, turned to
malice. Chest
compression. I
could have been
a good person.
What value in gold,
if I have you?

Man becomes woman woman becomes man
headline dictation that makes you understand
but what's this? The scene goes beyond extremes,
the black/white photograph is of color underneath.
But **** me, I'm being erratic. I'm standing on tables
shouting so your disdain's automatic. What's up with
this new fad? Uhmurika never had it this bad. We have
a literal metric ton of whining millennials wanting to be
special snowflakes. Man, who could take all of this social
pressure? Being held accountable for a miserable, literal lack
of knowledge about the world around us? Man, definitely not
for me. But seriously, bro, did you get your **** cut off? What's
up bro, **** you get your **** sewn on? That ******* ***** lacks
a ******. That motha ***** lacks the design that gives him a similar
package when his blood pressure rises. Don't talk to me about feelings
before you've had the operation -- because before you've done that step
it's better if you don't implore my empathy or patience because you're
just not real, I won't feel the weight of your complaints and frustrations.
Matter of fact, for you, ess jay dub, my emotional core's on vacation.

Leave me alone with your dialogue.
Discourse is not for me.
Leave me alone with your dialogue.
How do you prefer to ***?

Is it this hard to admit to your audience there's something else outside
yourself? I can see how defining the lines with alacrity makes it easier
to breathe the air you breathe to stay alive. It must be nice to stand tall
and be you and not have to bray declarations of self to stay confident
and true to the compass. Walking is all it ever takes you yet when I say,
"Actually [...]" it's enough to make you think it's me getting in your face
with another liberal lecture, but I'm just keeping real straightforward
about which terms I prefer in our vernacular. Shut up, you **** up, we
advocate for your finish, only requiring you fit into our premise.

Leave me alone with your dialogue.
Discourse is just not for me.
Leave me alone with your dialogue.
How do you prefer to ***?

I just think it's best to have some canned material
in case you need it.