Darkened Nights With Lights

It is much easier to write to say I hate you
than it is to speak of love.
It is easier to burn these bridges
and laugh at your pain
than it is to listen.

I would rather waste this breath on ego
than take a stab to my pride.
There is more satisfaction
in bleeding from my self inflicted wounds
of self preservation
than there is in humility.
More self satisfied ego in sadism
than bothering to offer you my hand.

I would rather see you wither in pain,
see you loose sense of life,
see you burn in this Hell
the endless limbo of your mind,
than to bother to forgive and love you
like I do the narcissistic beast
that dwells in this guise of a creature,
this lamb with horns
that love the sight of drawn blood.

I miss things the way they were.
Before I gave in
and just used the "I" word so much.
Almost like when I had some sort of integrity.
Before things became so damnable
in the mindless repetition.
Mantras of self inflicted gun shot wounds
that hope to one day grow into the holy
disguise of guile and cunning,
the marks of clergy and the holy.

Little giggles of growing madness.
Vision of blood and terror
at just the corner of your eyes.
The mounting fear of plagues, diseases
and nuclear winter.
Delights of the serpent's eyes.
The eye candy apple of his reptilian eyes.
The blessed seduction,
burning at the center,
that gives us a leg out
at any possible moment
that we want to cave in
and bow out
to curve in
and simply indulge in the appetite.
After all,
didn't he say to eat of any tree?
Indulge in any and every fruit?
Eating and sucking apart ever greedy bite?
Didn't he say indulge every impulse?
To grapple with nothing
but with how to forge the quickest path,
from here unto thee?

Didn't you hear the child's cry of pain in the night?
The lonely place,
the home of animals
with the stench of decay?
Were there not cries of loneliness and despair
that we never recognized?
Were there not rapid responses of angels at the sight?
Would you know the honest truth of regret looking,
seeking to break past this false barrier you think is real?
Whatever happened to your thoughts
and regards of truth?

Madness posing as truth,
truth seeking to be found as is
in the midst of contradiction
and mad paradoxes that will never be heard.
But the greatest hope
is that there is preservation of the soul
and the blessed hope of home,
of love
and that you will see,
you will see soon.
See beyond the shades,
be broken so you may grow
and grow that you might live
and live with such abundance
that the additives of plastic hate
will melt
and wither
and nothing will remain except the truth.
The tears will be wiped away
and nothing you ever sought will be needed.
Every last breath of pain will find solace
in the absolute perfected beauty
that comes from eternity mixed with love.
And love that conquers every
last allurement of the hate
of the heart that bled for pain
and sought to bleed on life.
All will be new.
All renewed in life,
in light
and in love.
As it will be,
shall be
and can only be in the shades of light
that burn from here until the last
shreds of eternity.

Traversing Your Face

I can't believe it was you,
yeah you I tried to hate.
When after all it was me to blame.
I screamed foul
and adultery
without taking the time to realize where I stood.
My cheerful smirk as the bullet flew
and the corpses piled up
and the stench rose to heaven and beyond.
Maybe I just forgot what it means to be human
or perhaps the simple
and straight forward answer is that
it is all just clever lines.
With a bit of make up and smoke for effect
but overall the overall is a plastic fix.
This little junked habits eating up the time
to help cope with the overwhelming
sense of irony of despair.
It is almost funny to admit my own hypocrisy
because
after all,
if I don't laugh who will?
There may be tears
but after all they are but an awkward byproduct of truth
that no one will worry about.
For now at least.
People only like to see you fall
and can't stand to see the fallen repent.
Makes for poor gossip
and only help when the false sincerity
just faces adorned with their naked smiles.

Buying Regards

I breath and it's your emptiness,
I breath and it's my emptiness
I see
I feel
I seek to just conceal.
It's empty too.

God I'm just sick of these words.
Every last false breath within
and every lie that stifles my breath.
Every sin I gorge,
Every snarky grin
and the small sounds of death
that are these lies.

It is all exausting,
wearisome beyond belief.
Lies told to stifle yawns
and yawns brought to silence talk
and talk bought to sell.
It just runs in circles and squares
and other odd shapes.

No perfect order just dissonance
disgused as chaotic good,
just silence bought as discount price
like a pair of cheap sneakers.
Overblown by a logo
and sought like a cheap ego.

Yeah talk is cheap
but so are you
and me too.

Night Light, Light Lie

The uncertainty of it all
can be distilled down to the simple facts:
Knowing is believing,
believing may be seeing
but seeing is no more an absolute
than the lies in your eyes.

It's nothing that is an absolute,
nothing but a reminder
of the fact
that you can't see beyond your mirror
and the internal narcissism
you love to love loving that still reflects.
It's all shiny,
like your rings,
you wear while ringing up the past.

Like a trite metaphor
involving a tart
you just simply rot here.
Rhyme out of sync
and revolve around your self
in synchronized orbit.
Twisting into shape
like you, just like you.

Another morning and another day.
Oh well.
What will we do today?
I know the regime of a job that could be better
and pain of a body that should heal
but what about You and me?
Where will we stand?
Where will we go?
What will we do?

I'm so tired.
I hate my shame.
I want to fall at your feet and cry.
And maybe be free.
God I need you.
My being thirsts for real life
and to be freed from all that is trite.
I hate how all of these words feel hollow
and empty,
less than nothing and without meaning.
I miss the days of sun and light
because now I hide.
I hide from the horrors of the light
because of how it burns
and makes life light.
Being hollow burns too.
It's just life, you know?

God is in the Rain

God is in the rain,
Jesus is too.
He's in the rain drops that fall
on the sinners and the saints,
the rapists and perverts too.

He is in the water that forms and falls
giving life to all,
even the crack addicts and prostitutes too.
He falls to redeem us all,
luckily the religious philanthropists are included.

I just want to go home.
Please.
Enough is enough.
How much more abuse will you make me take?
I'm on the threshold of a nightmare and it looks to swallow me.
I'm afraid.
I just want to go home, where it is warm and safe.
Warm and safe in Your arms forevermore.
Without these tears, this pain and all of the fear.
Where the sun burns forever and every tear is wiped away.
Please carry me there, I'm too weak to walk.
My faith has fallen on broken legs. the blood is thick.
Please do not forget me here.
Please.

Words, no words. God no words. I am sighing and no words.

Dark Shapes in Light

I'm drunk off the pain burning with me
and high off the pills they gave me.
I just wish I could afford something
to numb me inside
long enough to kill what makes it beat.

I tried screaming to no effect.
It is like living inside a moving picture,
seeing the people move about
not hearing a single word
while creating this caricature
of my own design.
It wasn't like this was a design
or a real desire
but it took place and it did.

A bit like an infection really,
this burning cancer in my lungs.
Eating me from the inside to the out,
showing as much love as dark grace.

It is too much to ask for random death to be free,
it is too much to hope for an early release from pain.
Words can not describe the confusion
or the brewing madness just a few feet away.
Just how enraged I am,
how unable I am to form words
or make myself heard
or be heard
or be seen
be seen for me
to be known for me
and whatever it is
I am
I am
I am
I am

I heard my voice echo in my head
I want to vomit,
to retch up this selfishness.
This disgusting league of pain,
this defecation of my soul
and this exposure of hypocrisy.
This running out of room to hide
and just pretend I am fine.

I am.
I am?

I dare utter such words of vile disgust.
Holy words profane by my lips,
my tongue,
my mind,
this disgusting reservoir of brackish water,
a haven of bacterial hate,
dirt and putrid smells.

I am this.
I am real.
I am pain.
I am sin.
I am me.
Self realized and nothing to show for it,
except this stupid shirt
and fake words to hide behind.
Ordered and ordained by people.

I am so sick.
I am in so much pain.
Every breath is a ragged attempt at life
and no one sees it.
Even those reading this phrase will not realize,
not understand,
nor comprehend what is truly meant by it.
The lasting implications I feel
for the night ends
and the day begins
but you cannot understand me.
Every layer reveal is just another distraction
another decoy
another pain
another way
another exposure of myself as who I am.
Enough for you to see I am not who I am.

It's exhausting to think like this because
it matters to me to have others care
and to display myself as this sight,
this vision for others to see
and partake in
and view.
This pain they can enjoy
and drink up
and devour.
Just so I will not be alone in this drunken stupor.

I hate all of this almost as much as I hate you,
I hate me
and this world.
It never made sense in here
and I doubt it will make sense in there.
Just, rhetorical
rhetoric
and feelings of lies.

I can't even lie to myself long enough to lie.
It's all stark hypocrisy.
Pain I can't swallow anymore.
Pills that aren't effective anymore.
All lies.
All pretend
all of this fake game.

I feel it eating and gaining.
Pain upon pain.
I feel it growing and groping.
I feel it inside and out.
It begins and ends.
It is and will ever be.

Good night
good bye.
Quitting could never be so sweet.

You know, it's rather hard to focus on doing any one particular thing when you have Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds going off left and right in your head thanks to the meds you are on.

I wish I didn't have to leave.

Time simply won't stand still, will it?

I'm an eternal pessimist yearning to be born again as an eternal optimist...in the off hand chance that should happen I'm eternally grateful crucifixion is no longer the execution of choice for overly enthused religious people.

CG Resident Evil Film?

The nicest thing I can say about the live action Resident Evil films is that they are full of suck. They are terrible, some of the worst movies to ever grace this planet.

But...THIS actually has my attention.





It actually takes place within the same universe as the games, continues the plot and doesn't seem like it will suck. Plus the music they use in the trailer is from Resident Evil 2...ah nostalgia.

My geeky senses are tingling...

The latest news in...is pain.
That is all.
Dark cold shallow breaths of burning air.
Nauseated moments of falling sickness.
That is what it is right now.

Jesus Christ this pain is too real.

There are not swears strong enough in any language to convey how upset, how tired, how angry, how frustrated and just in general enraged at life I am.

False expectations...maybe self inflated hopes...there is definetly some room for self pity and loathing...oh God the loathing...

So much...so little...God I hate this.
All at once.
What was the point in the first place?
I can't enjoy the moment because of how much I hate.
Ignorance is a blessing because you can at least enjoy the moment you have.
Compared to not sleeping, being sick and hating life because of how broken, bitter and over all shallow you are as a human being.

Yeah good, encouraging happy feelings here!

In Words of Home

Words lack their due in that I'm going crazy.
If not exactly already there.
I want to go Home.
It can be a problem to breath,
to take step a forward
and not look back.
But oh I so wish to go Home.
So that I may breath my last
and be freed of this broken shell.
To know what freedom is truly like
an emancipation to never long again.

I wish I was smart enough
to stop long enough
to remmeber to not wear my heart
just on my sleeve,
where it collects dirt and scrapes.
Bleeding wounds
I never know how to staunch.
All I have left is this infection,
this disease inside my heart
screaming at my every thought
demanding control.
So, so all I want,
the first and last thought in my mind,
in this burning cold
is to go Home.

The lack of love
which is replaced with fury,
the lack of love
which has become this mass treason,
a degrading of all of my reason
into this trite existence.
Buffers into life and light
and barely being able to see in illuminated dark.
This poison is suffocating,
the smoke is chocking
and I hate this all.
My rage tapers off
into this passionless self hating loathing.
But, may it ever be in this last breath,
I long for Home.


** ** **

Painted images
posing as metaphors
upon this table.
I'm not sure I believe you
in what you say and do.

Yeah yeah yeah...Merry Christmas or something like that...

Shades of Seasons

The shades of all the seasons burn in your eyes,
pools of reflection on your face,
carved like a relief on this mountain.

Aching Truth

I want to scream until my lungs explode.
Let the air bags in my chest explode
and just bring me back to life
with the soul shaking force of pain.
Just wake me up with a scream.

I'm running blind,
living it
because of how dead I am.

It isn't just here and now
it has always been.
Every moment awake
just lost in you and just whatever drug you take.


I hate how weak I am. I just feel dirty because I don't have any sense of control. I just feed my lusts and indulge in whatever I want.

I feel so alone and scared right now because I feel like you should hate me and you always will. There is truth but it is so unknowable right now that I would like to simply die.

Everything is coming undone,just spinning out of sync.

I'm crying but there is no one to wipe the tears away. Every last burning desire is going to lead to this burning mass of fetid death.
If there was justice I never would have been born and if there was justice I would have been still born and never would have been forced to live out these days. These wearisome and troubled days.

Please do not forget me Jesus.
As I lay here gasping for breath.
Please remember me.
When I draw this final breath please be here to hold m hand,
hold me.
I know I am going to forget what it means to die,
I'm going to be lost in pain and regret.
I'm going to be human.
So please do not leave me alone in that hour.
That moment when the air leaves my lungs
and all that I know is the fear of no more.
Would you hold me close?
Hold me tightly and be my love?

I am so tired.
I have nowhere else to crawl to.
PLease do not forget me while you can.

Brewing Darkness

It's so good to know...
It's so nice to know...
Everything can be so perfected
in your syncopated
little mad world.


Every last piece of my soul wasted
dragged across this broken glass,
that are your nails,
every drop of blood
swallowed by these little pores
is something else
I would miss if I could feel.

I don't have the strength to vomit
but God I wish I could.
Wretch out every last emotion
every last piece of me
and just show
you how fucking
complicated I am.
I'll never be something you dissect,
some neat little project worth seeing.

I am.
That is it.
I am.
All I'm going to be.
This perfect mess.
This failure of complicated ends.
The beginning of nothing
but this final end.

Screams syncopate
into madness.
Blood collects where I have crawled.
This breath burns my lungs
because it's not longer air
it is just masked pretension
that is nothing more than the best interests
of better intentions
wrapped in whatever it is you use to sleep at night.

Every second we spend in this wasteland makes us worse.
We bite into each other,
rip out soul out...all for what?
To be a game for specters that we can never see.
But you don't see.
You do not see them egg you on,
see their delight at the blood letting orgy.
You don't see their yellow eyes gleam
in dying twilight as they set their eyes
on ripping our your throat
just as soon as you have finished feeding on me.

So what is it?
What is this?
We are just going to eat and dine on the others flesh.
Drink the blood with the wine?
Eat the flesh with the bread?
This juxtaposition of a poorly raised metaphor
that never should have seen life.
Because the dark is eating the light.
Every last momentous pain.
These demons smile.
Because they see what you can't see.
They rejoice in the pain.


But God,
if my soul was any darker
you would be cut by its shade.
You would feel the hate brewing inside
and would die from the heat.
But instead,
I'm judged for me being me.
I never said I was anything less
But here I am just being me.
And that is a crime, even if you don't think it.
Or say it.
Me being me was never enough.
It cannot be enough.
With insufficiency.

But God I try,
oh will I try.

Why am I here?

It would be so much more simplified...to me at least...if I was more than what I am...more than this loose collection of cells with a soul...I'm so tired...so fundamentally alone...

So tired...so depressed...so...unable to take all of this for much longer...

If life bothered to make sense theologians, philosophers and politicians would be out of jobs.