Session Two

It’s business

This pain against you

Ensnared in the Dream, no one

Can rescue you

The end is near

And so very far away

With every day you age

You get younger

Dumber

Lifeless as a pen on a shelf

Waiting to be made into the abstract

Motionless inside half beating heart

Comatose

Living and dying you are

In the vein of their gravity

No escape, not without the cry of blasphemy

“How dare you betray us”

“Do you think we’re really that bad?”

You deserve what you did, don’t you?

Spoiled little brat

Life can be a pain in the ass

But we’ve all got our paths

So stop complaining

They’re your parents after all

They know what they’re doing

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Therapy Session One

Sitting in the middle of the room

Come on in, close the door behind you

We’re starting soon

Take off your makeup

Throw away yesterday’s eyelashes

Let me see your bare lips

Bitten, bloody, and bruised

Take off your gloves

The marks of chains aren’t mine to choose

Stand up for me, and expose your back

The welts and wilted skin aren’t in lack

The two, rusted lines like railway tracks

Is this the life you asked for?

Why can’t you stand, why do you shudder

What has happened to you child

Tell me

(I can’t help you)

Tell me

(They really can’t help us)

Is it your mother?

Is it your father?

Ah yes, that explains the size of the marks

That distinction certainly sets them apart

Now, what are they like, to start

Why does one help you, and the other hurt

Oh, they both do it

Well that adds some complexity to it

But you say, one is physical

The other is mental

You’re quite the case

Yet not far from the norm

I suggest you go back to them

Because they clearly love you

They express it differently

Have a good afternoon

MISS FERGUSON? THREE O’FIVE FOR MISS FERGUSON?

(You’re doing great kid)

(They’re doing great)

The Impossible Possible

It’s not up to you

It’s not up to me

It’s not impossible

To follow you to the end of the road

Walking this tightrope with you

Oceans will drown us out

Deserts will bury the sounds

And sights, such extraordinary views

With you

People can say it’s not meant to be

Jealous of this never-ending dream

Falling into this eternal sea

Choking on death, I am

From being close to this breathtaking you

I’d never let go

On this journey, to the great unknown

Towards the space and light we’d call our own

All the things that might get in the way

Of finding our home

Won’t matter, I’d rather be dead by your side

Then alive on my own

You’ve taken me and broken my insecurity

You’ve captured me and thrown me from a cliff

I’m not sure when I’ll ever stop falling

But something’s made me better

And that something was you

It’s up to me

It’s up to you

To make this world home

To make it our own

The Lonely Sign

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Cross my heart

You’ll never live

To see me die

Fooled me once

Now tricked me twice

I can’t do much less

Than trust my eyes

In the face

Of the things I do

We can see

How close time is

To finishing you

And don’t mind me

I’m not far behind

Taste the rain, dance in the shadows

Barrels align

On a dime

My head stands behind

The lonely sign

Left Alone With You

light takes off

into the abyss of memory

dusk and dawn forget how to behave

and I’m left alone with you

skin shivering from the warmth

radiating from our veins

deep green eyes

are the lighthouse to the end

of loneliness with you

fresh scars spill old blood

bonding ties become undone

and bruises never tasted so sweet

as I’m left alone with you

pumpkin flavored breath

seduces the fabric of my being

I’ve fallen for another

as I’m left alone

with you

Your Pain Can Now Begin

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I don’t mourn the dead bodies

but the emotions

last forever

haunting memory until we submit

to inevitable will

she always pushed me

in the right direction

even when I was wrong

she took me back

sometimes I messed up

and we both laughed

until I pushed her beyond the lights

and onto the tracks

I left before the inevitable crash

walking slowly all the way

the night become day

in a shell of my former self

did your love now lay

I fondled and groped

the murderer of your hope

I slid into her faster

than the rusty metal over your throat

there was another besides you

and we couldn’t let you in

so now after death

does your pain truly begin

I.A.D.W.M.U.T.O.H.K.I

wamtac

I’m. Addicted

to the excitement

the rush of opening a page

the clicks

the loading bar

enthralling

it’s calling

I’m falling

inside her body

Don’t. Wake. Me. Up.

I’m lost in a world

sweeter than a hundred

packets of Splenda

but just as sort lived

because they wouldn’t call them highs

if they didn’t have lows

The. Overdose. Has. Kicked. In.

I’m sweating

undressing

in a life of double minds

I must love representing

now the sun’s up

and I haven’t slept

I wonder how much life

do I have left

Twisted Rhymes From A Twisted Mind

wamtac

Morning comes, and everyone is eager

quickly they rise out of bed

but I never want to

abused and refused by the words of those

who said they knew me best

face straddled by hips of a lonely, lovely silence

beautiful to the point of pain

writing down the words inspired by raucous love

has me going insane

I see her alone in the shower

on a quiet weekend morn

and I want do her all over again

with strength gained from heartache reborn

travel up her spine with fingers moving all the time

we both get so turned on by the games we play

on each other’s minds

tongues twisting in each other’s mouth

drowning ourselves in a sea of organized panic

swimming in depression derived so long ago

that the stench has genitals turning rancid

releasing anger pent up by years

beating, pounding

until she’s a bleeding ball of reckless waste

reduced to puddles of sweat and inches of blood

from my younger days

Oh, who am I kidding

it’s just me, no girl

she’s just made up in my mind

to pass the time

and inspire another one

of my twisted rhymes

 

 

 

The War Of Poetic Conviction

WAMTAC

Convention

waging endless war

against my unwavering condition

arrows of all kinds

and sizes

fly through the air in mass

darkening the sun as it rises

tipped with oil, tipped with fire

they rarely kill

but injure greatly

designed to cause will to waver

and crumble when the infantry

comes later

day and night the siege rains on

they cannot hold this city

but for so long

no food to re-wire my mind

no fountain to make me young again

cutting off my life support

the empty space I need to breathe

sanity drains from my mind

through an eternal sieve

even my blood turns a cold shoulder

like I’m afraid of living

the days of old

just when the night seems to end

the moon folds it’s hand

sneaking a cunning glance

at the sun and stars

as he pulls his winnings in a pile

the dawn turns towards the deceivers

eyes reddened with intense flame

with searing pain destroys the enemy

from this son comes poetic conviction

that topples the medical profession’s

worthless predictions

tone and diction, I’ve got it in my hand

to rally my soul brothers and sisters

it’s all part of my plan

The Good Doctor and Christian Wolf be damned

I’m tired of seeing us misinterpreted

given superhuman traits

just to make a cute story

our story isn’t for your entertainment

rather our struggles

cause lifelong derailment

tell them I’m coming

I’m going ham

 

The Menace Inside Makes Me Young Again

37

Shadows convene

at the edge of every alley

one foot planted in reality

the other against the wall

smoking cigarettes by the carton

breathing in the toxic waste

of a choking humanity

and out come black fumes

so sensual in wafting

from nostril to nostril

even the prostitute looks up from her slumber

and pleasures herself once more

together in twilight

they burn the ashes of dead dreams

and light the fire of forget

roll in the cunning of a serpent

and blow it as sweetly as a promiscuous witch

sweeter than the honey

that drips from hardened nipples

hanging lower than the blade

of guillotines sent to punish the adulterer

strip me bare and beat me blind

I scream I’m yours, I’m yours

as the skin peels back, dancing

to half time

throwing fuel around my feet

the soul gasping for air

raises itself higher on the cross

while the aborted fetus bleats

I love the menace inside

every day I age

she makes me young again