Welcome to the Hell of Your Making

The devil gleefully watches as pedestrians disappear like lemmings over the side of a cliff into a limitless abyss
Like a car wreck that cannot be avoided, and that everyone had a hand in
He sits and he ponders and he wonders, and his mind wanders into an endless night
While the sheep go to the slaughter house in single file and never find time to complain
He wonders even morosely as too why these free willed beings go so calmly to their demise
When they could just have easily chosen a safer path full of bright lights and smiles
There's just far too many, his hell is running out of room, and he can't stand this stupidity
No one commits crime for purpose, no one murders for purpose no one can even define purpose
in the end the arrow through his heart is tipped with poisons and he welcomes this
For in this he selfishly feels selfish again, happy in his own bitterness and wretchedness
And in this moment his mind cools and he gleefully can watch again all the little lemming disappear into an abyss where none ever return from

Honestly Stanley

"It's too bad about the world," he said, "so full of liars, and whores, and cheats."
I pondered this for a moment and made to respond
But he stopped me and continued, "So full of horror and anti-depressants, so full of stenches, and belches, and reactions to alcohol and drugs - prescription and recreational - so many avenues of hate, and not enough for love."
I nodded in a sort of half hearted agreement, and made to respond
"Its not enough for most people, and not even half the bare minimum for the rest," he continued on his one sided rant, "she sucks the dicks of a thousand men, in dreams and nearly in reality, she pleads herself a pleasant soul, while thrusts are jabbed against her inner bones."
I made again to say something, for something in this seemed wrong, but I couldn't, and I didn't, because I knew that he would not let me respond
And so he continued without protest,"They will tickle your funny bone, and massage your hot spots, releasing your inner desire, but they won't let you breathe without breathing in the cigarette infested soullessness of their own bullshit.  They want to believe that they are the only ones who are not immune to being horrid and gentle all at once, under a certain light."
"Yes, yes I agree," I finally reponded.
The man turned to me confused, "Tell the truth tranquil traveler, who silent situatues some of himself while the world waits wondering what will wait with them on the other side of this thick thrashing avenue of obnoxious oblonged obliguqe obstacle.  Tell me what the hell you agree with?"
I was dumbfounded and didn't know what to say.
"That's right little man," he responded to me,"Im waxing poetic, while being an idiot devoid of any sort of satisfaction, go ahead and light up yoru lies you lying son of a bitch."

An Open Letter to the Lady in Aisle 3

You know how you know but they don't
, you know how they care, but you don't,
 you know how the squeeze the pleasantness right out of you with their apparent deciet,
Its not only fun to watch them squirm in the pleasantness of their lie,
It'll also be beautiful to watch the reaction when they discover that the truth is already known,
And that they will be silently judged for the rest of the time they are here,
This isn't a lie in itself, but a bold faced honest reaction,
You think you knew me, but you only knew half as well as you thought you did,
not even that, because even that is generous,
No in all brutal honest, you didn't even know a quarter of what I was,
You didn't understand that facade I put on to please you,
The lie i told, while you watched me squirm, and used what you thought was my truth,
You who smiles, and acts pleasant, and pretends they are good,
I hope when it becomes clear to you that im smarter than you'll ever be,
I hope you will realize that no one, and I mean no one is completely good,
No this is not a wish for pain for you,
This is a wish of satisfaction on my end that justice will be served for the many times you trespassed against me,
And leave God out of the discussion,
God as you pretend to know him, is sickened by his association with your tongue,
He the crutch you use,
Why?
I wish you not a horrible existence, I really hope you are happy,
I just can't wait for you to wake the fuck up,
This person that I am, this nice, kind person with a knife in his side,
This person is not completely good,
In fact I seek out the selfish things to, I lie too, I try too hard of course,
Do you not see me? of course you don't,
Your too busy thinking you have issues,
Lets compare issues for a second, lets compare our histories for a second,
Think about it, you don't get the excuse of having issues when I have probably worse issues but am behaving the way I am,
As a civilized human being, as a gentle nurturing person, no not devoid of agression, or bad habits,
But as a truthfully kind person, not just the hopes that i can be,
Stop lying to yourself,
Or I'll never have any respect for you.

The Ice Queen

there was a moment when she thought she'd have it all but that moment is gone replaced now by a hollow shell that won't let her breathe
She's suffocating and she cannot escape, she's dying but she can't be late for her meetings, whether or not they are important is up in the air,
But in the end she will face it all like a fading facade and she will tumble downwardly against many branches, she will be bruised and darkened,
And when she is so far gone, that her old self is seeping out of the edges of her shell, she will realize only then that she should have been somebody different.
You see her ambitions were heavy her deceptions were vivid and she longed for a life filled with coconut shampoo,
The world is fading, twisting and turning in on her and she won't release her grasp on her idealistic notions that she's a queen bee, when all she is is a queen bitch,
Don't you hear the sounds blasting through the ground, the demons and hell clawing for her while she talks about God, and love and peace and understanding,
She spouts off these lies while she shoves a knife in their backs, not a sharp knife, something dull and rusted, something that'll take hours to cut with, and will leave infections galore,
All the while the sun will rise, and she will hiss at it like a vampiric cat obsessed with her own diseases, because in that shell is isn't as immune as she thought,
We already told you the ending, she'll reach the eldest of ages and she will decrease in stature and fade into a gray nothing,
People will remark around her, but not about her, they will see her peripheral influence but nothing direct, where her hand had a role, they will claim aww's and wonders,
I don't know why she wouldn't just take things in stride, and just grow up with the rest of us, and stop trying to act all high and mighty,
Doesn't she realize that some place in this world there are people who are not meant for that life, no matter how much you want it,
She will slowly slumber, slumber down and down into her faded self, that mutilated dream, and no one will be there that truly wants to catch her,
Only a remnant of a shadow of a man who is seeing outside his windows.