The hate, hate, hate
Is here to fucking stay
You're irate, irate, irate
It's time to fucking fight
Bring the fists
Leave the guns
Let's end this like men
Run full force into the gates of hell
Bring them down
To their knees
They will pay with blood
The hate, hate, hate
Is here to fucking stay
You're irate, irate, irate
It's time to fucking fight
They can beat us down
But not take our pride
We will rise again, again, again
Let the anger take hold
Bring out your demons
Bring out the pain
This world will know true justice
When they hear my name
The hate, hate, hate
Is here to fucking stay
You're irate, irate, irate
It's time to fucking fight
We beg them to stop
They laugh in our face
You wont feel the same
When you're in my place
They beg for mercy
It's one on one
Every man for himself
But we all stand together
You will fall to pieces
YOU!! WILL!! LOSE!!!
The hate, hate, hate
Is here to fucking stay
You're irate, irate, irate
It's time to fucking fight
Wow, this is the best poetry book in the world.
I love how deep it is.
That one poem is so funny my heart skipped a beat.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of the pages.
And the most amazing part is,
It sucked.
A lot.
Who were you expecting, a white knight?
I’ve heard these jokes before in checkout lanes.
And the customers in front of me never knew you existed.
I’m not that pretentious.
But you are.
I do not have double standards.
But you do.
Someone whose castle is built on mediocrity can’t scare me into hiding.
But someone else might be.
The moat is heavily guarded by trolls that can ruin their lives
If they refuse to walk on eggshells around you.
I keep pointing out your flaws
But you never even see them.
Instead, you fired a bomb into the crowd
And ecstatically handed the cannon to me.
You impersonate a traumatized child so onlookers would feel bad for you
And point their fingers at me at the drop of the hat,
Leaving me with nothing else to say in my defense.
I’m beginning to believe you love the drama more than you love your craft.
You’ve thrown burnt bridges in the wind today and I’m off to the pen,
But I’ll let you have your fun for now.
I have stowed away in the back of the truck to escape my sentence,
But I’ve come back to fight you with a rocket.
I’ve been ready for perfect storms since my old flame tried to kill himself.
And pinned the blame on me because he wanted me all to himself.
I have nothing to lose if you play the “defenseless child” act again.
You may have been one locked in a tower once upon a time.
But you grew up to be a dragon and imprisoned someone else.
It’s not my fault that you made yourself look worse.
It’s yours.
You can stop lying to me now.
I know you were never the victim.
You poor little porcupine.
It startled me that you jumped in front of a moving car.
I wish I could be there for you and help in any way I can.
But your quills pricked my heart when I gave you a hug.
I cannot pull them out or I would die.
So I had to tolerate this pain and let it suck the life out of me little by little
While I think back to when our affection for each other mended every obstacle we faced.
The future was bright for us.
You couldn’t stand by to let me sink
So you taught me to swim.
I wanted to return the favor badly.
But I didn’t know how I could, sadly.
The possibilities were endless when we spoke of our dreams.
You could picture yourself coming to my rescue and growing old with me.
You couldn’t wait to hear my voice as if your favorite show was about to air on TV.
You made every effort to show that you loved me
Even if I have nothing to give you in return except my own.
A year passed and the storm clouds were brewing.
The weather grew colder and attitudes turned sour.
I was working hard and I felt out of breath.
You were studying hard and you turned inflammable.
“Where was I when you needed me most?” you asked “calmly” one day.
“I’ve been fighting my own battles all this time.” I tell you. “Life hasn’t been kind to me lately.”
Please, please bear with me. I’m tired and I’m scared. I’m going to be left to my own devices.”
“You need to make more time for me.” You scream. “Anyone would have abandoned you ages ago”
“If you’ve been gone for as long as you did. Is several hours with me too much to ask?”
“Answer me, you ignorant, pathetic excuse of a child!!! Grow up!!!”
I couldn’t with you leeching off of my aura.
You made it seem like the world hates me now.
So I packed up my things, spread my wings, and flew off into the rain.
It doesn’t matter how badly you are suffering yourself
If the prospect that I need to take care of myself too slips your mind.
I never asked you to help me.
You did so at your own volition.
If you didn’t want to in the first place,
You could’ve answered, “No thank you.”
We could’ve gone on with our lives either way.
But here you are.
You called me immature.
You called me a teen in an adult’s body.
You said I never bothered to do my share.
But my dear porcupine, have you taken a look at yourself?
Or better yet, look in a mirror?
You don’t see the newfound greed in your heart, but I do.
The scholars in my inner circles do.
Whose leg are you trying to pull?
My loved ones know exactly what you said.
They know how selfish you’ve been acting and what I could’ve done.
If you think no one can love me the way you did, you could not be more wrong.
I can admit when I am anyway.
You went to town on me like I didn’t know how to count.
And my only response to your passionate rave was goodbye.
In the blink of an eye, you disappeared from my mind. Your quills in my heart decomposed.
It was like you were just another customer that treats cashiers like their punching bags.
I wish you the best of luck with your own hardships.
And I hope your own wounds heal entirely.
But I am done with you.
I am done letting your vitriol take up space.
I am done listening to you disguise your resentment as facts.
I am done hating myself for what our love has come to.
My love for you was just practice for the next person.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Demeter was wise to tell me to stop getting involved.
Because I discovered that what you don’t know
Was how amazing it felt to give you up and do her work
Without a care in the world. After all, you don’t know me.
Are you ready for it?
I shouldn’t have to ask you that question after all that you have done.
It would’ve been rude of me not to give you a heads-up like this.
Your reign of terror is steps closer to its endgame.
If I do not draw my sword and face the ghosts of my past, checkmate is guaranteed.
I did something bad long ago, but can you blame me?
I’m just a human being that made a mistake because I was not in the right mind.
Anguish and love do not mix because both made my life worse before.
If you respect that my situation is delicate, why do you keep poking the hornet nest?
If you crack it open and the wasps sting you so much their poison burns,
don’t be surprised if I say, “Look what you made me do.”
Your empathy is lacking so why should I care if you are put to rest the next day?
Princes don’t negotiate with paupers like me.
So it goes because fame and violence are always placed above justice and peace.
Isn’t it gorgeous to be the one in control? To run a country or a sect without a care in the world?
Doesn’t it feel amazing when your subjects obey you unconditionally as if you are an almighty god?
These questions reveal to me that aristocrats and celebrities use their authority
for insolence and seduction. No wonder we can’t have nice things.
You are not entitled to my throne even though a liar was the king of my heart before.
What was “yes” today could be “no” tomorrow so I keep fewer promises.
I’ve heard enough empty platitudes from your devotees to realize that an oath is not to be made lightly.
Anything else you want to preach about before I take the getaway car to escape additional agony?
Go ahead and dress your possessive wiles by telling me you love me
And shower me with material goods to let my guard down against my better judgment.
But when you try to use your tenderness as leverage, it is all the more reason for me to leave.
The longer I stay here, the more certain it is that my life is in danger.
My hands are tied keeping the darkness around me at bay for as long as I can.
Fortune is never on my side when I dance, but my sword will always be my partner.
Call it what you want, but the battlefield is my ballroom.
If dancing alone is the only way I can retain my individuality, so be it.
Happy Raʼs as-Sanah al-Hijrīyah, Vlad Dracula.
I’ll see you in Hell.
She gives in again
he cuts the rope shorter
I am faerie fire
I want to rage myself into a forest burn
and there are still things I can’t put into words
She gives in again
he cuts the rope shorter
I am faerie fire
I want to rage myself into a forest burn
and there are still things I can’t put into words
Scream, scream, screaming:
Help those drowning
all around
and they look to their coffers,
and the piles fill into the coffins--
The tide is coming in and the flood
is just getting worse:
there's a rage building in the dead,
and we'll speak for them.
Wretched bodies flung into a funeral pyre,
and the silence is deafening upon the pile,
and we see our love burned to ashes,
and we see their hands deep in pockets.
Cold hard cash for the winners and
death sentences for everyone else.
There's a cold rage building in the dead
and we'll speak for them.
The march of the dead is coming and
pitchforks are on our side this time.
Too big to fail too big to fall to big to take on
too big for their own good too big so
let's build ourselves and let them know
we're too big to ignore.
There's a cold rage building in the dead and
it just keeps growing and
we'll speak for them.
If we're face down, six feet under, it doesn't matter
if their cash piles grow and grow
in the face of God they pray, bow, and pretend
it's fine as long as they say sorry
and it won't be.
A cold rage is building in the dead,
am ember burning
threatening to blow it apart
and it just keeps growing
and
we'll speak for the dead.
When the man of the house threatens to put a leash on you,
The best step now is to see yourself out to force him to rue.
The saddest eyes in a world of gray
Full of hurt, and the weakest strength
Windows to a tortured brain
Courting madness to look sane
I see the darkness around your face
That you try to hide away
You've lost the will to live again
Subject to recurring pain
The wrinkles flow around your features
Like roiled and cracked imprints of creatures
Growing old while in your prime
Extenuate the charm of time
The mouth is small and bares it's teeth
Silent when it ought to speak
Chewing when it ought to stay
Cursing the good days away
Stepping back
Now I see
It's simply a mirror
Reflecting me...
I’ve been swimming in the deep end lately.
My head is spinning in circles.
My heart had never been so hollow on the inside.
I need to catch my breath before I do anything else stupid.
My work of art is an escape from uniformity.
I felt safe with you for the time being.
At the end of the week, you cuddled me
When the sergeant had an off day at work and took it out on me.
I let you in like I did when I meet new people.
You were happy for me when I told you I finally found love.
I wanted nothing more than a friend’s reassurance that everything will be okay.
But you in particular were a land mine waiting to explode.
It’s dangerous territory where you’re from as a queer.
It’s dangerous territory where I lurk on the web.
It’s dangerous territory to build a world without receiving adequate training.
It’s dangerous territory to make friends with volatile people like you.
I can barely read script in Delphi without misinterpreting some if not most of its passages.
My art isn’t like what you’d expect to see in other do-it-yourself or high-profile projects.
The way I write, the way I archive, and the way I distribute information is my strongest suit.
There is no way I can fulfill my goal in life alone without the help of a team that knows its stuff.
You didn’t have to sugarcoat your advice to fix my problems
But you didn’t have to pull more than my teeth either.
You spoke to me as if I had to know every damn trick in the book.
You pointed out where I went wrong as if I didn’t already understand it.
I would have welcomed your advice if you watched your language.
I would have been more considerate if we joined forces as planned.
But being friendly with you in light of this is just out of question.
You can say that I’m high all you want, but it goes to show that you’re smaller than you think.
It’s dangerous territory where you’re from as a queer.
It’s dangerous territory where I lurk on the web.
It’s dangerous territory to build a world without receiving adequate training.
It’s dangerous territory to make friends with volatile people like you.
A vagabond told me this morning that I don’t learn much from success
And boy, I sure did learn a lot about your character more than what it takes to be top dog.
I might also let it slip that you exploded in my face because your little rant was all over the place.
In that case, riddle me this, who among the two of us really needs room for improvement?