Don't be stupid

Pain and Heartache

Look around

Don't make a sound.

Swallow back your tears.

Close your eyes,

Whispered goodbyes.

Cold night and lonely years.

Your heart throbs,

Hold back sobs,

Relax and float away.

His cold embrace.

Hand carresses your face.

Don't believe what he may say.

Push him back,

Lie there slack,

So he may see your pain.

Do not fret,

He can't forget,

This is all for his gain.

So swallow pride,

You may confide.

Let him in, on this dark night.

But in the morning,

Your heart is roaring

You must cast him from your sight.

Lay him down,

In him you drown,

But, honey don't be stupid.

He'll dump you flat,

like a welcome mat.

This man, he is no cupid.

Your love is gone,

With the coming dawn,
And you see your tragic mistake.

Once again,

You've let him in

Leaving your broken heart in his wake.

Fool that is ourself~

high expectations are not my cup of tea, people need to stop tryin' to suck the life out of me..

do we return to the memories..? or do they come back to us?

the only person I really want to talk to right now is my father.. but why bother thinking about it.. 

I just want to question him on everything that seems to of passed us by... like the time.. 

or what we will become after wasting away.. after we've deteriorated & our skin is past grey..


slowly paralyzed, fingers first.. trying to figure this out, tying up loose threads.. 

I need to feel alive.. have I been living a lie within my head..?

or am I trapped inside, knowing outside is the reality in which you've been dead.


I could spend the rest of my life in bed, until i've cried enough tears to flood the entire house, both stories.

but wouldn't that just be a waste of potential..? to let the pain push me down, further each day.. 

the weight of nostalgia get's heavier, despite it's dismay..

memories are like an impenetrable fog, & everyone else gets the sunshine on their face.. 

do we all pity the fool, that is ourself..?

Killing Time, for Worthless Paper

by Jack Fehlmann

Bring it down
To the land of the
Not quite right.
Heave this impossible

Of "life",

On time
If you don't mind.

Can't you tell,

I'm here waiting.
Killing time.

Am I a fool?
I should listen?
And do "It" right?

Killing time?

Or, living my life?

Every minute,
Is my reason.

Each one so fleeting,
Is good reason.

Finite is one life.
And one day it is ended,

No second chances

To wipe ones ass with
Treasured scrap paper
Which all currency is really.

Is that not painfully apparent?

What's wrong with you all?

Toss on down
Unprovoked assaults
of the Untimely
So so, impossible
rope a dope life.
Measured by debt.

Endless imperfections,

Must-have possessions.

Killing time.

Chasing, creating, tracxking and graphing
Highs and lows, charts to show,
Black and white lines.
Why is it alright that its
Paper driving reason.
Fucking paper, we treasure?
And that paper can't even be eaten?
Why would I forfeit my time,
For bullshit such as that?

Killing time?

Financial growth plateaus,
The what is a recession?
Economic Depression?
Rising, rolling, sinking,
Never even?
How is that worth not living life?
I again ask why?
How did so many countless
Burried and forgotten,
Foolishly decide to forget be alive?
They were killing time.
Time is life; Life is time.
Not arithatic, bottom lines, black fridays, two-for-tuesdays or APR types!
Seductively fabled institution,
Bright lights and misdirection.
Nobody even questions?

Killing time.

Well alright.
Yeah, alright
Just fine
Killing time,
That's life.
Just buy it.
But I decline.

Offensively graphed,
Great minds tried
countless numbers
Wrong, right,..
Society writes
So much paper.
So we'll know,
Yes, or no.
If we did it right.
Rich and poor
Die every time.

Killing time.

Blissful meaning
To the question,
Chasing phantoms
To painful to listen.
Punch out, back in,
Solar cycles,
Dark and daylight.
Singular and Finite.

Killing time.

Well, alright.
Yeah. Alright
One? Right.
Aw fuck it.
Right the line.
Killing time,
Who needs life?
Killing me.
Killing you, you, you,
You, yours, and mine.
Killing time, forgetting "Life".

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I know, not very poetic right? Everyone needs to vent sometime. But I hope you hear my message.