Between a Needle and a Hard Case

There's a pin prick at the back of my neck

Like a sword that couldn't go in

Waiting there on its tip

To destroy me

And spill my soul out onto the floor

I can feel it

But am unable to move

A stark drab and fortitude of bricks lay before me

Delaying my progress

And I unable to push away

Lest the sword pierce my skin

And like I said once before

My soul will spill out onto the floor

I'm contemplating life

As one usually does

Seeing the thousand figures passing by

Like slides of photographs

At the movie show

When put together make the illusion of movement

But I am very much standing still

Its a scary thing to be caught in a trap

Thinking on all the things and where there at

Debating the lasting impressions

That you placed on the last impersonal people you met

Or the ones who met the world to you

Feeling your feet getting sore on the ground

Imagining just stepping back

And watching it all spill out,

Your soul,

Onto the floor.

But you breathe, as I was trying

And you try to make it calm

You try to keep your chest from heaving

And your feet from shaking

And your standing from leaving

But you know that its not perfect

The pin prick isn't pleasant

And wetness trickles down the neckline of your shirt

You know its blood and you know its your own

And all this time you never asked who was holding the knife

Your shirt grows cold, as mine did

Damp and red - you imagine

Sending unwanted shivers up and down

Your ever so askew spine

There's so many questions to ask

So many answers to try to obtain

In a way though i won't get any

That's rather obvious I'd think

Somewhere along the way

As the movie shows play

I feel a glimpse of a solution

Like I know who and I know what

That I somehow deserve this

That I inserted the weapon in the fist

Still I languish my life

feeling anguish and strife

Feeling like its not going to end so well

But i never hurt a fly

Well I have, that's a lie

But in the grandest scheme of things 

I'm a giant not an ant

A gentle man in the guise of a brute

Against the subtle backdrop

Of heartache.

popo

Hide  your heart in the back of a moment
And let the past lay by
Aside from the pain that you are feeling now
You can rest assured that you are breathing
I am going to let you in on  a little secret
That no one can decipher alone
Let the last of the world pass you by
And let the memories fade away
Its good to feel flabergasted
As long as the night is the way

Word Play

It is not to be assumed that I cannot get through this day on my own.

  In the time it takes me to pick up the pieces I would have been half way around the world,

 but here I lay fractured and alone.

  Do not forget all of the trouble that it took to get here,

 because that would be a mistake.

  As they say its not the destination but the journey.

  Forget that though.

  If only I could fast forward through my mistakes that won't leave me alone though they do dwindle on the edge of my mind.

  Almost forgotten but never erased as things never can be.

  I attempt to decipher my own deceptions but that is futile enterprise.

  Give me sometime though and you will see what they've made of me.

 Do not think of me as one of those selfish people who blames my coming short on the bruises given by the others,

 I do have my own shortcomings that prevented from from stepping atop the precipice and I do understand my ladder is weary,

 but my feet are true.

  It may seem confusing,

 but its a mixture,

 a chemical forgery that dragged me through the muck and made me feel disgusted and faithless while all the others joined in raised hands to sing praises to the sky man.

   I'm not saying that I don't have faith,

 but when someone is stripped down to that inner nakedness its hard to find it in your absent pockets that which you believed.

   Sure pieces can be restored and storage spaces refilled but it is not at the present my present circumstance.  Please,

 don't end your gaze, i need your eyes to keep me full.

   Though I'm starved your sight gives me sustenance to make it through the doorway,

 and the door jam knows it. 

  Even in my current stay rays of sunshine will permeate the cloud if only you smile at me.

   And you have so that I may walk on passed the fire place that shoots out flames like bullets made out of clawing talons that seek out my heart and mind in order that it may rip them from their homes and destroy the roots therein.

  I'm not crazy, not now, never was.

   It is said that though I tripped up and broke the hearts of those who loved me most that I forged a path onward,

 not upward.

  To go up to the top of the mountain as I've already stated is something that I've only almost done.

   given that I'm not exactly sure how that could even be almost true,

 let us just dismiss that notion and return us to the task at hand. 

  I am moving onward,

 in a horizontal line that bares me forth into the arms of my aspirations and there is no room for warring hearts that seek to riddle me with rumor and gossip.

  I grow weary of fiscal responsibility but I clamor to the value of the dollar as dearly as some cling on to air.

  i need what I can get and nothing more,

 but the need will grow as i earn more.

   I'm lacking in my skills, sliding down the side of the cliff ready to be splattered up the floor as my brain already is scattered on the walls.

  In a very real sense I am mute. 

 Screaming though I may try I am seldom heard, but often hurt. 

 They think they do it for love but they do it for their inner most satisfactions and I do not blame them. 

 Let enterprising gentlemen solicit lovely ladies as long as they want it that way but don't let it be said i will pleased when a fistful of knuckles is struck upon her smile with the blow of a thousand lies.  

 When her blood bleeds sadness and the men pass on by her,

 i will wander by always on the outskirts of a desert devoid of spaces, 

praying though i don't believe, that she may see when once she was blind. 

 I'll attempt not to whisper too many words, 

but will speak volumes of praise and admiration and perchance she will hear me.  

But,

 who am I to joke on such things as Eagles do not see me only swallows and canaries.  

 There goes the blaming words,

 the slanted view of my slanted soul and I am but a lie.

   Not that I told but what the world labeled me, 

and even that too is a cheap ploy to garner sympathy. 

 Is it such a crime that I am lost in my own self-hatred,

 loathing and love.  

What i see reflected back in restroom mirrors is not the one that everyone sees, 

but how can this be,

 how is it they see anything but what I've seen? 

 I continue to doubt my appearance because how can they see this and think on high. 

  I'm no god, and they the angels I have sought.  

 Me, 

an imp lesser than devils given to ghastly outburst of pity and remorse.  

 Let the wordless people know that the homeless people know than an empty heart will feed no families but a broken heart will feed two.

A Sort of Struggle

Little by little they siphon them away

taking what they can of the subconscious

Simply so they cannot dream

We damn them with their burdens

Their shoulder weighted down

Saying its time to knuckle down

Its time to live so give up now

But we fight on

With what little strength we have

For our doppelganger is ready

To punch the time clock

and get the mortgage through

With all the life force

The world has stole from you.

Procrastination for the Picky

If tomorrows selections are not to your liking you can restart at the beginning

But keep in mind that if you do you will have to rush forward in order to catch up

In this instance it is only wiser to keep on keeping on

To venture onward and upward into the swing of the club

Traveling on simply as you were though your tires at flat

But yes, yes of course you can go back to the start

Do not worry though if you are so far behind that you begin to rip out your hairs

There is no time to regret your mistake because regretting takes time and thought

When your thought needs to be where you are

Of course though, I'm just saying if you had remained where you were and struggled through

You could have stopped to smell the roses

Picking a part your disaster and turning it into less notable garbage but still not perfect

Perfection as you seek it in your singular time constraint cannot be accomplished

Should have thought of that before, just saying

In the meantime we will be over here reclining back in our comfy chairs

While you dreadfully scribble out lines just to make some headway

Your topics are half met though I know

But feel free to continue on that path,

Though your other choice is still here, though I know you are disgusted by your lack of interest

At least you would be finished on time

It is tomorrow and the selections are in but you are no where to be seen

And this grand raise my friend I'm afraid you can not show up late

Once the doors shut it is already over

But don't worry I'm sure nobody will love to see what you did.

Perpetrators of Tragedies

Oh, what do you achieve 

Oh great crusaders of misery and carnage

It is in this way that you either see nothing

Or the same walls and bars for the rest of your life

Notoriety is nothing

Even the evil organizations of criminal activity have had higher standards than you

You stand for nothing, make no statements

I would call you all illogical

But most of you are smart

In this drive of hatred and delight in causing suffering and pain

What is it you hope to achieve

An inner satisfaction to see what its like?

Is the experiment worth the risk

You only have a few sorry supporters

Only a few little boys who follow you around

Is it because of being pushed to far

Well sorry to tell you your still being pushed

By giving in to this sickness you let them win

Did romance never flock your way?

Well it'll never be so now

If you want to cause this pain and you want to end your own

There are plenty of evil men out there

Men with equally devious plans as your own

Or combat zones where the targets shoot back

Have your cake and be dead too

I guess I don't need to understand

I'm not you, you are not me

But you are not in a phase

You are not misunderstood

You are sick

Sick with morbid curiosity

Sick with the belief that you are important somehow

For what purpose

For what rhyme

Except to exercise your own sick urges

Its appalling, but that's what you want isn't it.

You want us all to acknowledge you

You want your picture posted on the papers,

To appear on all the newscasts

To become a legend of notoriety

Its probably our fault for letting this happen

Letting our media shine spotlights to understand your fucking sickness

There is no understanding it

There is no deeper meaning

Unless a tumor is eating your brain, 

Or pushing on places it shouldn't,

And you can't control the voices,

You never had to do this,

You never have to do this,

Its bullshit and you know it.

In the end you are a thief, 

A robber,

You had a high count of victims,

There is no bonus round

There is no parade,

In your own private places you will suffer alone,

And if the devil is there you'll suffer the worst,

If not,

Then what was the point,

Your mothers should have aborted you.