Your egotistic delusions of self waste

I am the shadow, fading into silence


I am the words you shoved in a box


I am blood, sex & violence

behind the symbol of peace


I am light enraptured unto the void

from a thousand years of cosmic darkness

chasing the souls of stars


I am the mirror you wish to avoid

with the tears that coiled down the drain

& the years wasted on nothing--

but what you thought was yourself...

Author's Notes/Comments: 


Catholic Caravan

Reality, like childrens nail polish across my skin;

toxic film that wrinkles when I move my hand to reach for the television remote.


 Like a ghostly pretense,

or an old man's hand


that's only a membrane stretched over bones which have bent and cracked with the cobble stone, peeling paint times.


 Humans walk past me in my plastic arm chair, 

their bodies being stretched


 and ripped

from seconds before into watercolor zombies.


 My own saliva wraps around my brain, dripping down into my eyes and turning to milk. 

I can't feel the scintillating, raspberry thoughts


 bob through my mind and explode into a shower of citrus and wood stain.

From sitting to standing


 I can't even feel the transition blow against my skin.

Wading effortlessly through my existence


 I accidentally wiggle my hands into the holes of reality, and then I sit down again;

that rusty red moment


in which I could see through my eyelids is gone

and will only come again


 when another travels towards me in a catholic caravan. 

Having Been Happy.


Having been happy in touching metallic skies

Or fingering the moon for its dusty overlay

Having been happy in moving orbs and the shores

Or spreading the sunshine to the burrowed moles.

Watching a lonely planet amid reluctant universe

Communications with eyelids in retinues of mankind

Having been happy in sweeping the volcanic dust

From a cold planet cast under the Brahma’s curse.


Having been happy in holding that repose

Which contained hidden geometry of the universe

Having been happy in consoling the suppressed cries

Of the shoring waves under the moonlit skies.

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Bible Story Things

With knitted fingers he wipes his chin.

His salted, wispy hair quivers in unwelcomed nostalgia.

Doubly protected with fangs and leather,

he begs under a blanket for innocent acceptance.

Hiding his eyes in instinct not guilt,

he wades through the punctured corpses.

Dragooned into free will he misses,

his reflection in a puddle,

pooling in a parking lair.

There and back again, back to his coffee.

Crying no tears and sweating blood,

in his arms he protects an echo,

with his fury he guides a clawed misfit.

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Who Wins?

Maybe I should end it all tonight.
Just one shot and I could end it all tonight.
I've grown tired of people expecting me to fight,
I just want to lay back,
I want to see the light,
I want to walk off the earth, disappear from sight.
I want to let these words take action and make this the last night!

Or maybe... Maybe I should wait and see.
Wait and see what lies ahead of me.
After all, there is no destiny,
not to me,
In a world with no god we can be free to be whatever we want to be!

However, I fear there is a god.
With it's sick gaze set upon me,
steering my life into a blood red sea.
I fear there is a god trying to bring about an end to me.
So if I were to end this life tonight, who wins?
your god or me?

Out of Range

Contemplating my next move, what should I do?
Take the first step to recovery, put myself in therapy, because it's easy to see how I've gone crazy?

maybe just try and convince myself my mom loves me?

Nah, I doubt that very much,
Now I'm not saying my entire life's been tough,
But it's I missed the touch, from your god above,
missing love.

Well I've had enough,
But it's like my soul is caged,
and now I've built up all this rage...
...anger... pain...
And it will all pour from me, like from the sky falls the rain.

...This is me.
Sure I could find a better person to be,
But it's not easy to change.
I've done it once before, but now I've gone too far,
My mind doesn't have that kind of range.

I know what your thinking, "bizarre."
But you get what you see,
And what you see is me.
Or at least the words that I write.
But I only write this because despite your best effort to change,
Don't take it to far, stay in range!

Because one day you may miss part of what you used to be.
I know I was a monster, but I don't miss the monster that was me,
I miss the faith I had in myself.
Without that, I feel there's nothing left that can save me.

-The Craziness

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Contemplation of the Lonely


I have no one
No one to go to
No one to give love to
No one to hold at night
No one to convince me that I am alright
It always just me
And the things that plague me
I fight theses demons daily
But I wonder why there is no one to save me
Am I that bad?
Am I that terrible that I deserve to be ignored?
I put forth my best but what is it all for
If no one acknowledges it?
If no one appreciates it?
I don’t know sometimes I just feel like a waste of life
Like nothing will be lost if I am drove through with a knife
Got no one who cares what the fuck I go though
Know one who cares if all of the sudden I am threw
Yeah I know I got family
And that’s supposed to be the biggest thing
But why should have no one outside of
Whose obligated to care about me?
I mean I got no lover
Got no fucker
No one at all
I mean I got a lot to offer
And I just get passed by
Like I am an invisible fuck
So I wonder why should even try
Shine as bright as you can
Bright as the fuckin sun
but what does it matter when no ones can see what you have done?
We live in society full of blind folk
So the light don’t affect which direction way they walk
Hell I cant figure out a damn thing that will catch the attention
Of these fuckers acting like there eyes are missin
An while I am hating them I am still hating myself
Thinkin theres something wrong cuz I cant get help
I m bout done with this shit
An I don’t know what I ll end up with
But it cant be much
Cuz there aint a soul that can appreciate
What I got stowed up
I don’t know maybe I am just meant to be alone
Inside this empty soul that’s my only home
Locked in here with a me that hates myself
Inside of my own hell
Inside of my own jail cell
Guess that’s the fate of the one who can get no attention
Yeh I guess that’s all I should be expecting

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