Chewing On Glass Presents… Much To Discover…

    So, as you can see I have clearly lost my mind. Oh, wait please forgive me. I forgot that I took your eyes. You can’t see anything so, allow me to describe the horrors you are about to feel and most certainly taste. Hey, have you tasted blood before? Nothing? No Answer? How rude of me you have no tongue which to speak. How silly of me to keep forgetting the things I have already done to prepare for this evening. If by now you don’t think I’m crazy you really should start. That warm iron taste, the one that reminds you of childhood, picking off old scabs, and licking away the blood is from the parts of your tongue that just won’t heal. It should taste sick at first, but by the end of all of this it will become comforting as you hold on to what memories you have left. My apologies regardless, but you have been more than difficult during all of this. I envy you none the less, you know? No one has ever treated me this way despite my demands. I’d pay good money for an experience such as this. It’s always too sick or too wrong. That’s how this all started. Worthless sex workers. I didn’t want it to go this far. Do you believe me? What difference does it matter? They set me free from all my pain. Hopefully I can do for you what others were too afraid to do for me. Excuse my laughter I was remembering the screams and inevitable reminders of past mistakes. The memories like to bounce back in place while I work. Well enough of this talking let’s begin the fun. Never. Never shake your head no at me you sniveling cunt. I’ll cut your dick off and ram it down your throat. Is that clear? Sorry, that was unfair. You didn’t deserve that outburst. It’s just. It is hard being on this side of the veil you know? We’re good right? Your hair is so soft it calms the nerves. Good take a deep breath, first things first we must maintain the sharpness of the blades.

God, isn’t that a sexy sound? I use to do this beforehand Out of sight. Out of mind kind of thing. Always be prepared, but where’s the fun in that? That’s good keep up the moaning. I like that you still try to make words. It’s a little hard to understand you without a tongue in your mouth. If only you could see how hard I am you might appreciate what’s going on. It interests me to see how the muscles get removed from bone. Have you ever watched a butcher work? It’s like magic. The skill, the craft, the determination. It’s almost as if the knife is his hand or part of him. My father use to be a butcher and I’m embarrassed to say that the papers call me the same. I am not my father. I don’t have the skill my father had. It is almost insulting you know? Being compared to a skilled profession such as that. This is more trial and error than anything else. He used to come home smelling of blood and death. Some days he would let me skip school and let me go to the shop with him. He used to say, “One day my boy you will be a butcher.” That is about all he ever said to me. That or this is for your own good before he would beat me. That’s it that simple. Life at times is only that simple. Right or wrong simple minded thought. We know different don’t we? We’ve seen more than just the butcher block. For all his skill and all his talent he was nothing more than a dumb piece of shit is what I mean. He didn’t like my reading, jealous of my education. A transition of the times from craft to thought.

Long story short he disappeared shortly after my eighteenth birthday. Mother closed the shop and I inherited the very knifes you can feel today so, in a way the papers and my father were right and believe me that makes me very unhappy. I thought about becoming a doctor once. Hey, hey you still with me? Good, but now I am only sure that I will be studied by one. Don’t know how that is going to work though as I’m fairly aware that I am what one might call crazy, but then again it’s not me they have to convince it is the twelve other people. Now for the fun part at least for me anyways. I never liked going to the dentist myself, but if I don’t at least pull out most of your teeth fucking your mouth gets a little rough after your dead. There I go laughing again. I had you going didn’t I? I mean I am going to rip out your teeth, but what kind of sick freak do you think I am? Do you honestly believe me too be that far gone? Sit still now this is going to hurt unfortunately. A byproduct of all of this but if I snap the tooth rather than pull it. Well you’ll only have to feel it happening again, but don’t worry I have needle nose pliers as well. Your choice though honestly I can go either way. Shh… Stop your shaking or you are only going to make it that much worse. I know that some of it is involuntary, but you really must try to calm yourself. Think of something peaceful. A happy moment from the past. Your childhood maybe? The laughter is involuntary as well I must say. Man the fuck up already. We’ve made it this far. What’s a little more pleasure? Wait… Did you hear that? Fuck, mother is home. I guess we will just have to finish this later. She hates it when I work in my room. Try not to die now. You promise? Promise you won’t die on me. We still have much to discover about each other.

Not too sure when I wrote this… another take on one of my favorite subjects… torture… this story is more about the little details… for me at least… I like to take similar scenes from the past… and expand on them in some way… that makes it sound like I have someone tied up in my garage… haha… I don’t… not yet at least… but it’s the other twelve people I have to convince… not you…

This as been another installment of Fun With Words or Is He Crazy?… Truth be told what’s the difference any more?… Enjoy talking to myself in the dark none the less… Until tomorrow… I hope all is well…

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It's Going to Be A Second… Broken Thoughts…

Took long enough to come to this conclusion
Moments in time spent finding peace in chaos
Nothing was ever going to be enough
Carrying the answers with me all along
Going back to the beginning
To figure out where I am
A slow march to death
Pick a path and see where it ends
Ignoring sign after sign
What if any is the meaning of words
If you don’t know what they should mean
Rambling in the dark, rambling to myself
Believing was always going to be
The thing that brought me back here again

Addicted to what I’ve been told and not what I know…

Suffocating under the weight of everything
The natural progress of
Hating myself from within
Digging my way out of an endless grave
Piece by piece, brick by brick
Been building the tomb I’ve always envisioned
A monument to pass onto the next generation
So they can do everything that’s already been done

“Maybe because sometimes someone wrote every sad song that they could.”

Pumping poison through the vein
A constant heart beat
That defines me
The difference between living and dead
Carry my thoughts with me
Every where I go seems to be no where at all
If there’s a constant here
Could someone please point it out
Never polite to point
Even while staring into a mirror
Blame everyone I see
Staring back at me through the shadows
That define me

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Two Stories… Two Poems… and A Whole Lot of Thoughts….

Paperback and Kindle

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Heard A Rumor… The It And The Is… Broken Thoughts Vol. 2…

Now Available

The Next Exciting Volume in the Broken Thoughts Series is Now Available…

Now Packed with Even More Broken Thoughts… Poems… and Short Stories…

You Know for the Taste… *

This collection contains never before seen or read short stories not found any where… Including Strangers To Ourselves… A short story about one woman’s journey through hell and what she must do to survive… Also… included are classic short stories from the website… remixed… reedited… expanded… and somehow darker than ever before…

If you are a fan of everything found on the site… You are sure to love this unhinged… new collection from Layne Ambrose and Is That A Funeral?… Digital and Paperback available at Amazon and the Amazon Kindle Store…

Get Yours Today…

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*We do not recommend eating… consume with your eyes only…

Bright Blue And Shimmering…

What do you say with a million lives to say it? What do you do with a million days to do it? An endless array of endlessness that accumulates into a pool of endless ocean. A fully powered and operational confusion ray shown across a thousand skies would still not explain all the confusion I feel inside. The isolation of all the knowledge that needs to be said greatly increases the feelings closing in on me. The pages have become displayed on the walls. Three layers thick and making no sense at all. The words bleed together like poetry at first. But after long consideration the words mean nothing at all. Turn the page. Start again. See what comes out and in the end find no solace at all. What is the meaning of this madness? What is a lifetime spelled out in words?

I pace the room once again. Careful to not knock over the stacks. The pages that could not fit on the wall without nails. Hammer and blood. Zig zagging through future trash. The trash that riddles my mind. Have I said all that I mean or mean what I’ve said at all? The words trickle out like a stream that will one day be a waterfall. A tiny hole in my head that won’t stop leaking. The thought becomes dizzying.  Dazed and consumed by all the words. I bump one of the stacks. It cascades threw out the room like a great wave of the coast of some mystical land. It blends and bends its will to all the other stacks piled up across the land. I stand in a sea of words, an ocean of thought. Even as I stare at each one. Remembering each pen stroke for what it was once worth. I can think of no meaning. No cause to add to this madness I have chosen to live.

Stare at each word. Each letter spelling out syllables and sounds. Meaning escapes me along the thoughts. Every passing moment descends further into nothing at all. The depths from under my skin. Flesh and blood. Meat without a taste. I can hear words as they echo out of the screams. Words played against a black screen. Images played to the silence of it all. A hollow sound that repeats. Blood drops, drops from somewhere though I am unsure where. A stream of red. A clue left behind? A whooshing sound blocks out the silence of thought. The blood pumps harder and faster within my head. Drip, drip. I can’t hear the noise. I can only feel it as I follow the trail. In circles I spin. Brushing up against the scattered pages of my mind. My bare legs chewed up amongst the pages. My blood bring new life to the words. Washing away letter for letter. Ideas for idea. Lost to the soul and pouring out of my head. A war fought bloody and hard. I continue to circle around the words like a vulture circles a dead carcass. I will find an answer to all this madness.

I haven’t showered in days. The new words keep pouring out all around me. The body riddled with sharp pains. I fear that I have become sick amongst the stacks. To quit now would mean that I should have never started at all. I’ve long since run out of paper. Resorting on writing scraps and bits of blood soaked left overs. I have lost track of where this is all going, but did I ever know? Follow the words. Follow the thoughts. Ideas set us free. Ideas separate the man from the beast. It is all here. Word for word. On display for any one with the time.

“A lost generation hoping for something to happen with the littlest effort at all. We all want to be millionaires, but no one has the heart to tell us that it won’t happen. No one has the heart to tell us shit.” Words cut out of my very chest. A pound of flesh I once called a heart. “They are all too scared, too afraid we’ll go shooting up the place. Our fragile minds can’t take the simplest of heart breaks. They fear that our trigger happy, unsympathetic, systematic minds with snap, and they are right for all the wrong reasons.” Man before the beast. Beast before the man. The call for blood of the innocent. The lives of a thousand sons and daughters. Is this not the calling of man? “Fear is nothing more than power. Fear is a manipulative tool used to take over the mind. They us the fear of it all to keep control. Governments, kingdoms, religion, and lies use the same tactics. Fear of the fear to keep control. Place in time. Fear equals control and control is fear. An impasse of conflicted ideas that have worked all too well.” Fitting in as the skin covers my mouth. Embraced by the society that birthed me. “A stabbed out swollen eye of infected corneas lathered so thick with bullshit that all we see is darkness. What about what is next? What happens in the end if no one stands up to the fleeting masses? The controls left in the hands of children. Evolution dictates that a change will cause adaptation to the original species. A rift will develop, slowly filling up with the lost illusion we once held.” Truth written in blood and disguised by lies of the mind. How could they ever lose control? More like them hidden amongst us like weeds that grow from the shit stuck in our eyes. “A river of deceit with a sediment so rich lies will grow like wild flowers amongst what is left of the masses. One could only hope. Giant man powered robots will reign supreme amongst the rubble of civilization. One great civilization shall rise from the ashes of our mistakes and in the end all the right will be wronged and all wrongs shall be righted.” A prophecy fore told in the shadows of the moon light on scrapped bits of paper. Cover the light with words and turn it off.

This is actually two ideas mashed together… a bit of a long post so I will keep it short… Nothing like a bit of madness to get your day started… Originally this was supposed to be used for a much bigger project about a writer losing his mind to the words… I got four pages deep when I realized no one wants to read about exactly what they are going through… So I chose all the best lines from that failed project… and tried my best to make sense out of it… or no sense at all… I just breathe the words… I don’t have to live them… and yet in some ways I do…

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That Was No Easy Task… Broken Thought…

Broken dreams laid out in a conscious stream
You can see them but did you ever really need them?
A question to haunt the brain
A question to question everything
What is it that is so damn important?
Risking to waste away
What’s worth so much
To sacrifice your soul
The answer hangs some where in the air
Like the feeling between lightning and thunder
Doesn’t matter, know it has to happen, right?
Waiting out the apocalypse
A lifetime thinking, knowing it has to come
Been told so many times to hold on
The end of life and the beginning of another
Ignorance truly is bliss
Not knowing is worth so much more
Than knowing anything at all
She said, the Lord preached, life handed
Nothing at all
Is what it was and was what it is
A long day strung out into a lifetime
Day to day existence was all there was
Ever meant to be
Fighting the ocean will only get you wet
Drag you under the weight of it all
Ignorance has to be bliss
There is no other answer that makes any sense
Screaming into the vast canyon
Screaming until there are no more words
Throat cracked and bleeding
No answer, no sound has ever come back to me
Standing here wasting time
Trying to figure out what I’m doing
Nothing at all

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

All Books Available On Amazon…
On Kindle And In Paperback…

Find Out More…

The It And The Is… Broken Thoughts Vol. 2…

Now Available

The Next Exciting Volume in the Broken Thoughts Series is Now Available…

Now Packed with Even More Broken Thoughts… Poems… and Short Stories…

You Know for the Taste… *

This collection contains never before seen or read short stories not found any where… Including Strangers To Ourselves… A short story about one woman’s journey through hell and what she must do to survive… Also… included are classic short stories from the website… remixed… reedited… expanded… and somehow darker than ever before…

If you are a fan of everything found on the site… You are sure to love this unhinged… new collection from Layne Ambrose and Is That A Funeral?… Digital and Paperback available at Amazon and the Amazon Kindle Store…

Get Yours Today…

Merch… Threadless… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

*We do not recommend eating… consume with your eyes only…

Hanging Onto Repeated Thoughts…

If It Mattered

It wouldn’t be so bad
If it wasn’t for all the guilt
It wouldn’t be so bad
If it wasn’t all that I could think about
It wouldn’t be so bad
If it wasn’t an addiction
It wouldn’t be so bad
If it wasn’t for all the thoughts of suicide
It wouldn’t be so bad
If I could only do it in the end
It wouldn’t be so bad
If I would only let it but I can’t

If I Had Known

I’ve waited too long
Thought I knew what was best
Knew nothing all along
My thoughts they repeat
Stuck on a word that
Won’t last long
All the thoughts in my head
Hurt as though made of glass
Each one poking and stabbing
Till there is nothing at all
I repeat the cycle
Forcing something that can’t be forced
I need something new
What that is I’m unsure
My future is all planned
A future of not at all

Layne Ambrose
Chewing On Glass

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Chewing On Glass… Is That A Funeral? Collection…

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