Something Kind Of Sad About… Broken Thoughts…

Finding my purpose has always been
More than I can afford
Finding reason in this world
Broken tranquility
Meaning obsolete
Stuck in this place in time
Working towards my purpose has always been
More than I can afford
Working towards reasons this world
Isn’t broken
Lost without meaning
Stuck only in a place in time
Trapped against the wall
Pushing back
Muscles want to resist
The urge to give in

Want and need are never the same thing…

Doors closing in my face
Taking advantage of a situation
Disassembling an instantaneous moment
Sound the alarm, fall through the bottom
I’d bury myself before I’d ever try
Pulled the lever and now I what
Want everyone to beg for forgiveness
Screwing with my own head
Each word means something different
Filtered through another voice
When you are dead
Will I only hear all the voices in my head
When I’m dead
Will I only relive all these thoughts buried within
Said I knew, turns out
No one could know what goes on inside
Of all of this

Tossed over the edge… lost and forgotten…

Opened up something else in me
Another door, a portal through the world
What’s the difference now for then
Talking in circles, trying to believe
Walking a thin line, trying to believe
In something more than me

Broken Thoughts
Layne Ambrose

Re worked a lot of these Broken Thoughts today… helps to have an outline of what one might want to say… even if that person isn’t entirely sure on the day what that is… most of my ideas take shape either right away… or the last second… still have so much work still left to do…

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Laid Out On The Black Top… Broken Thoughts…

Taking my time
Each step a lifetime
Was it worth the thought
To think anything would change
Taking my time
Trying to figure everything out
Missing steps as each day goes
How long is too long
Until we should let go
Taking my time
Each instance a lifetime
Was it worth the thought
To think these dreams meant anything

Stuck between where I am and where I don’t want to be…

Destroying everything was never difficult
Cutting out pieces of me
Ever God damn day
How much of me is even left
Repetition is key
Repetition is all I need
Replaying these thoughts in my head
Scream them enough in silence
They will become true
Enjoy the logic but the theory
Is too God damn much
For one soul to take
Dragging myself through each day
Swinging at an invisible enemy
Drowning myself with nothing to gain
Fucking hero and villain
No longer see the difference

Fuck… I miss drinking… but at least I don’t want to kill myself…

The words dig their way in
Fucking failure
Fucking useless
Fucking nothing
No one will ever be as cruel
As the voice in your head
The gashes were meant to free the words
Buried in my brain
Fucking pointless
Fucking stupid
Fucking selfish
No one will ever be as hateful
As the voice inside your head
The drugs were meant to free the words
Trapped in my head
Fucking lies
Fucking ideas
Fucking you
Straight into the ground
Buried six feet under all this shit
Stuck within this hell

Broken Thoughts
Layne Ambrose

That’s a fun feature… Maybe it is all the negativity… but I’m feeling pretty positive… got to love them up swings…

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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…

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

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

Chewing On Glass Presents… I Awake with Bruised Eyes and Hollowed Out Lies

I look at the world, seven minutes cold, flashes of life, and passed out drunk. I awake with burning, stinging, sleepless eyes. I awake with a sense of belonging and at the same time a longing. Awaken but yet I must still be dreaming. Dreaming for something better or something worse. I awake with my dick still standing. Standing at full attention looking for any attention. Ready to release one more load or another gallon of piss. The decision is not on the brain, but in a gateway smaller than I can imagine. Made of flesh and blood as is the rest of me. This is every morning. This is a constant. These are the things I think about and I do not know why.

The bad taste that has slipped into my mouth overnight doesn’t go away even after I try to brush it out or smoke in a replacement taste. My teeth hurt like they have been grinding away layer by layer all night. It’s the little stresses that kill you not the big stuff. It is the little stuff that slowly eats you alive. Taking this and taking that but in the end they take everything anyways. If you are one of the lucky ones you won’t even notice the discomfort. I notice every little instants and yet I let it happen. Hell I join in on the pleasure every now and then. Daily. I smoke another with the taste still very much intact. I didn’t need another one, but at this point what is one more? One more nail, one more stake in the heart. Tiny needles pressing against my chest cavity heading for my soul. It wasn’t the taste or even my dick that woke me up today earlier than death or even the sound of a crying baby. No, it was a dream, a light version of a nightmare that is my life.

My dream, nightmare, inner vision was about my grandmother. A devil of a woman whom without I wouldn’t be standing here today. Allegedly there is no scientific facts to back up these claims. I hate my grandmother. She was a bitch. Therapy could help me describe my true inner feelings better, but she’d still be a bitch. In the dream she pretends to be a sleep as my grandfather rattles off a list of shit she would like for dinner. She has exact instructions on what she wants and how she wants it to be. Treated like a slave in life and in my dreams I feel bad for my grandfather. It was no wonder he went a little crazy. It was no wonder they found him in possession of a trunk full of dead cats and a collection of women underwear. Luckily it didn’t go any further than that or you might have heard of him. He lives in a cozy little place far removed from society now. Better put he is basically dead.

“This but not that. Make sure you get it right or else,” she says in my mind and my dream. Or what the fat bitch is going to get her lazy ass out of bed and kick your ass? She hasn’t left that bed by choice in maybe a year. Conversations with myself always seem one-sided. I can see her while she fakes being asleep. Patiently listening to make sure he plays his part as always. He says one more thing before I awoke, “We know all about your past experience with food, but we also know you always screw up.” What do you think that the dream meant? I hope it means that she is or will be dying, but she is already dead. Not a loss or a gain just more of the nothing that fills this world. Shouldn’t waste my time on people who don’t matter, didn’t matter, or don’t care. The brain doesn’t work like that though.

They still find their way through though don’t they? Slip through the cracks no one knew were even there. Tear the wall down and leave you with nothing but rubble. Drinking could be the reason, life could be the other, and living without a purpose could be the answer I’m looking for. How am I to live with so many distractions? A gun fight erupts outside, a flood down the street drowns hundreds, and yet I sit staring at a screen looking for answers.Ignoring everything that is going on around me. Her little eyes scream for attention and the sound to follow. The present is only for a moment but the past is a life time.

This is a fiction story… I guess that goes without saying… Some of it is real… I did have a dream that woke me up… and a lot of it is false…My grandmother is still alive… still an asshole… I should be more empathetic to my grandmother… many of us have lost theirs already… but then again you were probably loved by yours…

I’m not bitter… even as I try to not come off as such… Life is life… enjoy it while you can and with the ones you love… don’t waste time spending it with people who don’t give you back everything you put in… We are all worth more than that…

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

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Chewing On Glass… Is That A Funeral? Collection…

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Too Many Things Left To Do… Broken Thoughts…

Making my way
Paved and incomplete
Searching for answers
Without any clues
Working on getting free
Giving all my time away
Never as easy as they say
Cracked, open, free
Waiting out the end of the world
Making my way
Concentrating on the inconveniences
Digging up clues
Without any resolution

“The Lord only gives us as much as we can handle. Because you either kill yourself or handle it. It isn’t divine reasoning. It is common sense.”

Without you everything feels pointless
Standing here asking how
Laying here on the ground
Breathing was never the most important thing
Sleeping off this discussion
A moment longer and we could kill each other
Without everything seems so pointless
Sitting here wondering how
Hovering above the ground
Living was never the most important thing
Dying off this reason
A moment longer and maybe then I’d have known
The love I thought we lost
Spent too much time wondering
And not asking

“I wish it would rain. Shit on everyone’s parade.”

Can’t get these thoughts out of my head
Here’s to another lifetime of this
Speaking in riddles, tongues tied to not say
How I truly feel about all of this
Thoughts come crashing back in
A drink is more than what I need
And all that I want
Just need something to set me straight
Not forever but for a time
Locked in this skin
Is not good for anyone, let alone me
I’ll bring you the fire if you supply the water
Drowning out, snuffing out all my desires
Anything to not let me be me

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

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…

Pressed Against The Wall… Seeping Into The Cracks…

Slowly

Carrying the weight of our souls
On my back through this living hell
I wish for more
But all I get is the same
Carnivorous, carnivores
We eat our young
Shit out the old
A machine made of razor blade teeth
The cycle won’t end
For fear that all will be lost
For fear of death
For fear of something different
We think that we know everything
We know nothing beyond the idea of despise
The fact we can breathe
Is a miracle in of itself
Embrace this, embrace it all
With an open heart and closed eyes
See where it takes us after all
Slowly declining such a sad existence
Slowly inhaling
Slowly exhaling
Slowly breathing this all away

 

One Piece At A Time

Against all odds
Pulled it off
But lost it all
If you think you know
You learn to find
You know nothing at all
The importance of thought
A grain of sand
In a giant tidal wave of shit
You drown in it
You struggle threw it
But in the end
You only learn to live with it

 

A Place Called Home

Slowly killing myself
Slowly killing you
I take you down with me
To a deep dark hole
I’ve come to call my soul
After everything we’ve done
After everything I’ve said
There’s not much left to love
A fear I have come to commend
Slowly killing myself
Slowly killing you
I take you within me
To have and to hold
Forever of old
To a place called home

How is it that nothing is ever finished?… day after day… year after year… always something new to say about the same damn thing?… a broken cycle?… or… the way it is?… Is this my journey?… or… all I have to say?… being trapped in my house isn’t… well any different than normal for me… locked away in hiding… is basically my overall goal in life… odd that the idea of prison or hell… scares me… I don’t even believe in one of those… funny how we fear the very thing we want… broken… the only conclusion I have found… outside of being human…

Moving on… Broken Thoughts Vol 2… should be out by now… if all goes as planned… how did you enjoy it?… a step in the right direction or a step off a cliff?… the deep end I should pull myself out of once again?… self doubt is the essence of my existence… and the nail that will do me in… I fear it all as much as I want it… so… in the end… all I want is fear… comforting… if uncomfortable after all…

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

Say It With Your Chest…

Chewing On Glass… Is That A Funeral? Collection…

Now Available…

Is That A Funeral? Store Now Open…

Find What Fits You… Help Independent Writers Spread The Word…
Two Birds… One Helping Hand…

T-shirts… Hoodies… Stickers…

Don’t See What You Want?… Let Us Know Below…

Get What You Desire Today…

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