Perverse & Bazaar
My poetical rhetoric is 
like a metaphorical etiquette..
My common wealth 
is like Edison, 
with rhymes cut thick
just like beef Wellington.

A skeleton? 
Looks like I'm under your skin.
but I'm laughin, not half assin'
sassin' back with grin.
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What Pain Does

If you’re unfortunate enough to know pain the way I’ve gotten to know pain


You’ll understand what I mean when I say


Pain does more than just…hurt.


It does that, for sure, but don’t underestimate how much pain can do to a person.


When pain strikes back over and over again and it rips up your ambitions to shreds and lays them down to make a little nest for itself in your soul


When, without even ringing the doorbell, pain walks right into your house, kicks its feet up on your furniture, and starts to get comfortable calling you its servant


Pain drains you


Pain changes you


Pain takes the lights out of your eyes and your smile and the tips of your fingers


You stop moving your hands when you talk


You stop moving your body when you dance


You become different


The pain scoops up your insides and throws them out onto the porch so you feel hollow inside


And before I go on, let me make it clear that I’m not talking about some sappy, emotional pain, the stuff you find in Ryan Gosling movies or lonely Facebook statuses, the first-world problems, the unnecessary drama that people have decided to label as painful when the only thing being bruised is their overlarge egos




I am talking about actual pain, the kind of pain that sends you to the floor.


Pain that liquefies your mouth and dissolves your retinas,


Pain that twists your insides like a wet rag,


Pain like knives,


Pain like fire,


Pain like swarms of flies,


Pain like you’re a hollow shell,


Pain like you’re a bag of rocks,


Pain like you’re a tree, rotting, decomposing, dying from the inside out


This kind of pain takes your character and your personality and everything that makes you, you, and drags it out through your mouth while you’re gasping for air that refuses to enter your lungs


And in order to fill in the holes and the empty spaces of where there used to be a smile


You become a creature


A monster, even


You bare your teeth, hunch your shoulders, sharpen your claws
You shrink into your most primal self


As a futile attempt to shrug this thing off your back,


This parasite with its teeth sunk deep into your flesh


But it’s not going anywhere


You become consumed
The pain swallows you up and digests you


Its stomach acid burning holes in your memories


By taking over your body, it takes over your mind


The pain plays tricks on your brain


Throws shadows on your sanity,


Whispering wet lies in your ear,


Saying it’s never going to end,


It’s never going to leave you


It’s never going to get any better


You’re never going to get any better


And that’s a promise it’s willing to keep


The pain sticks around


Only detaching itself from you for a little while


Giving you barely enough time to put on your gloves and scrub its filthy stains out of your furniture


Before kicking down your door again,




You’re going to have to get used to it


So this pain will linger on your breath


And follow you like a dark cloud


Threatening to storm at any moment


And the worst part is


The pain lives inside you


And you can never escape from yourself so


You have no refuge from the storm


The lucky ones find temporary shelter under






Drugs legal and illegal


And sometimes these shelters last long enough to become




But even when the pain is gone


The fear of its return hangs forever heavy on your shoulders


And honestly


Between the monster and its menacing shadow


I don’t know which is worse


Author's Notes/Comments: 

my first true slam poem

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Minding My Business


    Somewhat askew, questions invade the conversation,
                         An icy cold pause is injected,
        Pangs of affliction are sensed but unassumed,
                        Slowly, the doors close shut,
    The muffled sounds of arrogance vibrate through the hall,
             Without warning, footsteps, a man walks out,
                 A slamming door leaves a biting insult,
           I don't even know them, and I wasn't even there,
                                 So why do I care?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I don't know for sure, but I don't think anyone likes discord, or maybe they do.

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man made massacre

what did you think we were going to stay silent
fuck being peaceful it time to get violent
grab a hammer go into the streets
strip away the sidewalks and the concrete
leave nothing but the bare essentials
an industrial stripped world has so much potential
no more money struggle no more pollution
lets put an end to the technological revolution

revolution comes like a storm
putting things back the way they belong
the way we live is all so wrong
the way we live is all so fucking wrong ss

sleep...sleep... SLEEP! SLEEP!!!  

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