Caffeine love. Enraged phones. Police blotters. Nights of disillusion. Patented licenses of blighted happy hours. Thrown at. Projected forward. Tim threatens to jeopardize my relationship this week, my family next. Nothing makes sense. Closed eyes yet seeing everything around you. Paper-mache freedom, smoldering smiles burn my neck that they are breathing down. Oh, the shame of purple radiating buttercups. Biscuits of size. Empathy tears not so filled out. Running are we? Cutlass slices the hand which feeds you. The undreamed, taunt and probe my mind. Laughing of course, while I lay dissected in a c-section. The delivery, not a pleasant one, leads to foul play, causing the replay. Time is unkempt and not well kept. Divided we lie, together we perish. Positioned just right, life might actually mean something. Killing requires spite and emotion. You must be driven by the desire and love for the taste of the sport. Well prepared for nothing are we? In your face I heckle. Loud and muddy for no one but you to hear. Is the message well received? Mock, mock, mock. Plagued by my absent, can your mind take the games? Silently and smoothly , the knife runs through the flesh , as if butter. The carnage is preferred roasted over an open flame. Smoke descends, shaking your lungs, wringing your wings. No flight equals no life. The best things were never meant to be. Madness captures the essence of it all, while the little boy cries. He cries for the wolf. The wolf will devour him, freeing him from life's sadness that consumes us all. Some are lucky to escape it all; Free from this world. Lay naked in your apathy, running your spirits high. Hoping to find yourself close to the almighty. Secretly, hallucinogens alter your perception forcing your hand to be brought upon your self. For shame, for tears, for the bleeding ulcers that cause you so much pain and anguish. The torture amplified eats you like a cancer -ridded lung. Ridiculed six fold. Crease, tear along the dotted line; unveiling the content. What now? Are you tempted to meet your creator? Can you fly? Can you do what is asked of you? Even the impossible? Are you ready to give at that you own, just for a chance?
Theories violated like the victims they are. Open game to anyone with a piece of paper and a pencil. We the people can not co-exist. Reasons never explained, just stated and given.
Transparent children play in the fields, looking for the right way to do it all. But... they will never find it cause it never existed. Sad though. Scissors just trim the edges, only if they could mend a soul...
Invisible promises along troubled ideas show the way for the "NEW" direction that we must take. I pity us all. Judgment come down and find not one soul worth keeping. Together we will burn, giggling as we line up for inspection. One by one, we are tried, prescuded, and excutioned in a blink of an eye. I Beg and pled, even resigning my position in the game we call life. Laws stop me from doing so. But for my whining and sniveling, I receive the worst. Eternity with myself. Alone, with my haunting echo. Everything from my ideas to my mumbles are clearly hear. Nothing left to do.
