"...Life doesn’t happen to you, it happens for you. How do I know this? I don’t, but I’m

making sound and that’s the important thing. That’s what I’m here to do.

Sometimes I think, that’s the only thing that is important, you know. It’s just letting each other

know that we’re here, reminding each other that we’re part of a larger self.

   I used to think that Jim Carrey was all that I was, just a flickering light, a dancing shadow.

The great nothing masquerading as something you can name, seeking shelter in caves and

foxholes dug out hastily.

   An archer searching for his target in the mirror, wounded only by my own arrows, begging to be

enslaved, pleading for my chains, blinded by longing and tripping over paradise.

You didn’t think I could be serious, did ya? I don’t think you understand who you’re dealing with.

I have no limits. I cannot be contained because I’m the container. You can’t contain the container, man. You can’t contain the container."

Preaching from lost childhood, the fair boy

Resigned to God's tongue. And fevered blue, he

Ovulated their prophecies. A bible afire, he was

Sodomized by Genesis. And with hi-snakes hissing,

Exorcising his soul, the boy evaporated into a ghost

In a life before this one

We made love with the symptoms

Of longings to return one day

The hearts we fought hard for

Are now so far from shore

What's left is legend and dreams

Your heart, it went rogue

A violent storm was in your soul

Your love, capsized my world

The answers that you seek

Like treasure that's lost deep

Will you trade your life to know

Strangled in the seaweed

Was the love that was promised me

How long ago had it died

By the light of the house

Each time it swung around

It revealed your body in time

I waited like a widow

Walking the seafoam

With faith your body'd be dry

On the waves, just your toes touched

Walking like Jesus

With faith I'd be waiting for you

When the gale had stop blowing

I was left with a knowing

Our love was lost to your sea

Invisible to the world.

Raging fire in the heart.

"You're acting weird, why can't I touch you?"

Lighting surges through the body at the gentle glaze of fingers.

Laughter= judgement

Tears. Without water.

Life. Without breathing (or the inability to grasp reality through rushed inhalation)

Numbness. Blood peering from behind fingernails pierced into skin seeking to dominate the body, yet failing to tame the mind in the process.

Lack of Control.

Shaking.

Hot flashes.

Cold flashes.

Shivering.

A scene.

"You want attention"

Worthlessness.

Inferiority.

Weakness.

Self-doubt.

Self-hatred.

Self.

You.

Should.

Suicide?

Yes.

Recovery.

"Fine"

Help...

she can't sleep because it hurts 

  but her daddy taught her never to cry 

    when it's gonna be a waste of tears 

  so she tries to swallow those tears 

but it doesn't work. 

he punched her

  but it was an accident

    and she believed that

  and it wasn't a big deal

just some smeared lipstick and a black eye.

she won't tell anybody

  because she's a giver of second chances

    but to others they call that afraid

  and she's not afraid

just tired and sleepy and hurting.

so she kisses him on the cheek,

  whispers sorry for all the things he's done

    and promises to get home early,

  'incase she's hurt again'

as if he wasn't the one who hurt her in the first place.

In the trenches lies our feet,

As we storm through every front.

Our rifles aligned, front and center,

There goes another loud, howelling scream!

In the trenches we must dig

With our shovels day and night, 

To ensure the survival of all 

From the divisions of our enemies!

In the trenches, one by one 

Are charging like dogs without chains.

Let's not afford to lose faith

As our will may carry on! 

In the trenches we're experiencing blood, 

As one after another continuesly fall.

Time will tell us to halt, 

After all are buried and done! 

there is 

symbolism 

in death. 

there 

is meaning 

lying in the 

grave, there 

is meaning 

when 

Hamlet 

contemplates 

suicide 

and when the

poison finally 

eats away 

at his skin. 

the heart is 

weak when 

no one 

feeds it. 

the earth still

disintegrates 

when no 

one is alive to 

burn it. 

nooses swing 

wildly when 

they hold no 

one. 

i used to 

think the 

blood on my 

hands meant 

something, 

but now the 

morgues are 

alive with 

screams and 

there is 

nowhere to run. 

a face caked 

with shreds of 

skin will only 

get you the 

twenty-seven 

miles to the next 

town. 

there is no 

pain like the 

obvious, there 

is no peace 

like your cold 

hand in mine. 

just another 

name, just 

another chore 

to cross off 

the list. blood 

only stains if 

you let it sit. 

guilt only 

suffocates 

when youre 

already soaked in 

kerosene. 

Let us go to the temple.

Hold our crosses,

Kiss our hands,

The price of our sins

Paid for in blood.

I shall be a vagabond on earth,

and everyone that findeth me shall slay me.

Blood of the vengeance,

The sweat and the spunk

I can smell it.

The things we've done

The bills we have to pay 

Why go to hell! 

When the Devils are here to play.