Chewing On Glass Presents… West End Love for All the East End Girls…

“So, are we doing this or what?” He asks me for the thirteenth time in the last five minutes. “We need to do this,” he reminds me once again. “We or you need to do this?” I ask barely looking away from my phone. “I’ll slap that thing right out of your hands,” he threatens. “I’m sure you will,” I sigh but I’m not putting away my phone. “Look you need to do this. You are in a rut,” he pauses rethinking his words. “No, you are stuck in some ditch in the middle of nothing town,” he declares. Should have thought harder I think to myself. “Well, I’m not stuck anywhere. I am choosing to be in the middle of nothing town because I want to be,” I let him know. “No one chooses to be in nothing town. Someone chooses it for them or they are there by happenstance,” he tries to recover. “Fun fact I am someone and this is where I have chosen to be,” I say in an abrupt tone signaling I am done with this conversation. “Okay fine, I need this,” he concedes. “Now will you come with me?” I shake my head no.  “I need a second you know that,” he whines. “I’m not dragging my ass across town. I’m just not,” I proclaim once again. “I’m not shitting where I eat,” he admits. “Never stopped you before. I’m pretty sure your bathroom is right next to the dining area in that trash apartment,” I joke. But then I realize what this is really about. I have the nicer apartment. What a little snake, I think to myself. “Okay, you have me there. Correction I have shit too much where I eat. Is that better,” he smiles trying to get on my good side. “Didn’t we just go out the other night?” I ask deciding on a different way to get out of this other than pointing out I am better off than him. “Yeah, but you are single now. So, we can go out more. Maybe even twice a week,” he suggests. “Twice a week?” I ask my eyes growing wide. “That’s pushing it don’t you think?”

Before I know it I am driving his ass to the other side of town to haunt the usual spots. We don’t come here much anymore and for good reason. He tries to hand me a bottle from under his jacket. “Are you kidding me right now?” I ask pissed off. “Do you have any idea how many cops are staked out on this side of town,” I bark. “That’s what makes it even more fun,” he tells me before taking a swig. I shake my head as he puts the cap back on. “Just a little pre-gaming,” he smirks putting the bottle back in his inside jacket pocket. “You need to learn to find your center without alcohol,” I tell him. “Yes, Master,” he claps his hands together and lowers his head. Not amused I keep on driving and ignoring him. “I’m seeing a lot of ladies that should be having my baby,” he quotes excited behind the glass. If he wasn’t my only friend I wouldn’t hang out with him either. “No one should be having any of your children ever, Jackson.” That is a fact for a lifetime. “It’s lyrics to a song. I don’t literally want a child, ever,” he rolls his eyes in annoyance at my lack of excitement for this evening. “Could you imagine?” He asks staring out the window. “I mean how does someone like me, like us, not literally carve the child right out of the womb?” He ponders into his reflection. His voice turning cold as it often does at times like these. “Could you imagine how boring it would be to wait for the thing to come out? Then have to actively try to keep it alive,” he shivers. “Plenty of our kind do it all the time,” I remind him. “Yeah, because they don’t know what they are,” he says turning to me. “I take it you have decided?” I ask looking over to him. “Yeah, I think I have,” he returns his gaze to the streets. “Let’s get ourselves a pregnant one,” he grins. His sinister smile reflecting back to him in the rolled up window.

Something sinister this way comes… no idea why I am saying that… as of right now… it is a one off… something dark to pass the time… Tried to keep it a story for the whole family… snuck a few shits in there though… haha… I guess I could have said crap instead… “I don’t want to crap where I eat”… nope… I like shit better…

Fun little one off story… enjoy the rest of your day… try not to look at the eyes as they pass you by… and wonder what they are thinking about… most of all hope you don’t see me… and wonder the same thing… (over produced sinister laugh)…

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Has It Been Felt… Broken Thoughts…

So you think you can tell
All the horrible places
These thoughts can dwell
Every corner, under every action
Gave you all the answers
Now I’m just waiting for a reason
To turn this all around

Sympathetic to reasons already written…

So you think the reasons are
Always on the surface
Dig a little deeper and
Tell me what you think then
Can’t see the sky for the ground
Drinking poison to wash it all down
Not all devils dwell underground

Assuming I’d have any idea at all…

So you think you know
All the horrible things you are capable of
That’s cute, born to destroy
These dreams are always more real
Buried under pain, suffering
|Safe inside my arms but my mind
Is a minefield built to bring you down

Following in footsteps made of glass…

So you think the truth lies ahead
All along, buried in words
And not much of anything else
No one escapes the demons of the past
No one said you couldn’t run
Step after step, breath for breath
That’s what I did until I couldn’t

Broken Thoughts
Layne Ambrose

This was a poem… works better this way… perspective is everything… the first view may not always be the best one… always take another look… decided for yourself… because you should know… someone is always willing to do it for you… Enjoy yourself… because someone will be willing to do that too…

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Is That A Funeral? Presents Broken Thoughts Vol. 2

This volume has it all… Short Stories… lots of them… Broken Thoughts… plenty more where that came from… Poetry… because Ambrose just can’t stop… Best of all it is now better tasting*…

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Please don’t eat the books… take our word that it tastes better… Ambrose got very sick… but he did say it tasted better than Vol. 1… more to chew through… paper is not a good source of anything… beyond knowledge and entertainment… please enjoy responsibly… *

Teething On Concrete… Therapy For The Soul…

It Has Arrived…

Is That A Funeral? Proudly Announces The Next Great Chapter In All Things Layne Ambrose…

A Poetry Collection Like No Other…

Seriously…

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Here…

Scarping its way into the world. Teething On Concrete is the newest collection of poetry by Layne Ambrose. Sobering, haunting, and downright depressing. Ambrose takes us on a journey the only way he knows how. Across the razor blades of his mind. Ambrose’s take on what it means to live will not be forgotten any time soon. Whether you are preaching, kneeling, or teething on concrete this collection is here to satisfy all your needs.

“Putting this down wasn’t much of an option.”
M.T. Billings, Shaky Town Rebellion

“Jesus…”
Sylvia Ambrose, Cover Artist

“Concrete never tasted so good.”
Korbin Copy, Is That A Funeral?

Teething On Concrete

For Those Who May Have Never Known…

Some things in this life are worse than fiction… some things are so real that even if I told them word for word as the truth… no one could ever believe… it is best to remember that not every one thinks like you… that not every one has shed their animal natures… and not every one in this world is good… it is easy to forget… it is easy to push out of our minds… what goes on behind our backs… and in the darkness… but not all horrible things happen in the dark…

This post is very different for me… maybe not in content… I tend to talk about things that are on the darker side of life… no this post is different… because unlike most of the things I post about… this poem is not about fiction… or dark thoughts that find their way into my head… I am a firm believer in the thought… that it is one thing to think or have dark thoughts… and a whole other to actually act on them… sticks and stones will break my bones… but words will never hurt me…I took that cliche in my mind and ran with it… built a fiction collection on it…

That is how I think… that is what I believe… but even with my own beliefs held firmly in place… some words… some ideas can be too much to bear… the topic of my poem today is… Sylvia Likens… and my reverse order for my post is because unlike most things I write… I feel context… what I think… How I feel about what happened to Sylvia… Is more important than the work below…

For those of you who don’t know… Sylvia Likens was a child in 1965… who was abused… tortured… raped… and killed… not by a serial killer… not by a known sex offender… not even by her parents… but by those in her community… by the very children she knew… by her very neighbors… there is so much to this story… to the truth of the event… that I can’t and won’t be covering in this post… more about the tragic death of Sylvia Likens can be found here

There have been movies… stories written… about Sylvia and the horrors she has been through… and even if you have read or seen any of them… then you know they only scratched the surface of her horrible experience… She has long been laid to rest… but her memory is not forgotten… Her tale as horrific as it was… should never be forgotten… Because people… children… still experience similar horrors every day… to this day… this is long over due… it needs to stop…

Many of us may have even experienced some… many of the things she was put through… may be even today… right now as we read… we need to put an end to it… we need to open our eyes… our hearts… and our minds… because… just because you don’t see it… doesn’t mean it isn’t happening… just because you don’t have the time… doesn’t mean it isn’t happening… just because it isn’t happening to you… doesn’t mean it isn’t happening… because it does and it is… in our silence… these monsters are slipping through the cracks… as we look away… people are being tortured… children are suffering… this isn’t an isolated incident… this isn’t something that only happens to someone based on skin color… age… where we live… or sex… these are things that can and happen to anyone…

I myself was a victim of abuse… I know how it can feel… I understand the shame… the fear of speaking up… will it happen more?… if I just keep my head down… then it will pass… I’ll be fine… excuses we tell ourselves to survive… Truth is the monster will always live in the dark… until you bring it to the light… I say you… but it takes more… it takes us all… There is no harder thing in this world than to ask for help… no matter the situation… it is the hardest thing any of us will ever face… but if you don’t… if we don’t… no one will…

Many of the signs are easy to overlook… it was a one off… it was an accident… abuse is hard to define… it doesn’t seem like it would be… seems pretty straight forward… but it isn’t… that is why so many people suffer in silence… reach out and get turned down… because of this one way thinking… because we aren’t paying attention… this is how and why… Sylvia was tortured… abused… until she died… It is easy to point at her tortures… her abusers… as the monster… but in this extreme case… the monsters weren’t just the ones in the room with her… but the society that surrounded her… that’s why we need to be paying attention… speaking up… and taking action… big or small… we must do all that we can…

Accidents do happen… people go to far… as a victim I know the signs… if anything good came from my abuse… my experience is that I know when I might go to far… when I am wrong… and need to take a step back… I know how easy it can be to cross that line… I’m not immune because I am a victim… I’ve said things that I regret… almost done things that I know were too far… I’ve seen the look of fear that I know myself once carried on the face of those around me… a look that has brought me to my knees… to tears… and made me question who it is I have become… I’ve seen both sides of the line… I have felt how either side of the line can feel… and just because I didn’t act upon my anger doesn’t mean I too couldn’t be a monster… I’m not a saint… I am human… we all are… and not one of us is perfect… but… there is a difference between an incident of abuse… and a pattern of repeated abuse… neither of which should go unchecked… or be put up with… seen as okay…

I was lucky… as far as my abuse went… as much as the memories still hurt me today… I was lucky… that I ended up in the hospital… that people around me spoke up… and did something… that my mother said enough was enough… a victim herself… not all of us are so lucky… for some of us… we don’t receive any help… until it is too late… Take care of yourselves… Take care of each other… it may seem like nothing… but is it worth the risk?… is it worth the hurt?…

Sylvia Likens

Kicking and screaming
Dragging and bleeding
Taken to the basement
Time to figure things out
Pressed against what’s left of the mattress
Laying naked next to the floor
What did you call me
You called me a whore
Silently screaming
Begging and pleading
Took me to the darkness
Time to figure it out
Strung up by the wrists
Stripped of everything I had left
What did you do to me
You stabbed me some more
Dying and breathing
Scarring and seething
Taken to another level
Time to let the devil out
Burned the words into the flesh
No one would want me
That’s what you said

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Makes You Better Than Anything You’ve Tried… Broken Thoughts…

Took a wrong turn into the dark
Lost the time, need to find the way
Opened door that doesn’t seem to want to close
Hidden beneath, locked away
Left so lonely, left all alone
Travelling blind into the unknown
Trapped within my own mind
A horrible way to go on
With no guidance
Lost everything I learned
Who I had become
Lost my way and now
I’m looping in and out of place
And now
I don’t know what I will become
And now
I don’t know what will emerge
From the door when I return

“That sounded like a close call”… My whole life is a close call…

I’m tied to you
I’d drown myself if you’d let me
But I know my love would never
Drag me down, lock and chain
Drag me through, high water to hell
Fade, disappear like the binds
That strap us together
Last through heaven and hell
But I know my love would never
Drag me against, concrete and glass
Drag me through, heaven to earth
I’m tethered to you
For better or worse
But I know our love would never
Drag us down, life and death
Drag us through, violence to pain
I’m tied to you
From now until the end of time
The years tightening against our souls
Until the day we become one
Tied, tethered always yours
For better or worse
Sickness and health
Long walk but never alone

Broken Thoughts
Layne Ambrose

Hit a few nerves inside my brain… shook a couple of tambourines… trying something different is always nice… I’m not a romantic writer… if you didn’t know… I sure most people wouldn’t consider words like tied and tethered… as romantic… but I do… because well… I’m me…

Still working on projects… still burning candles at both ends… trying to get anything off the ground… to spend more time inside… hopefully everything is going well… it is a new year after all… ready to start this one off in a better place… I may be getting to far ahead of myself… taking each day as it comes… it is a long walk… but we are never alone… something to remember… something I want you to know… hope all is well…

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If Only I Knew How To Swim…

I Haven’t Even Began To Peak

This self-sacrificing bullshit is getting old
Your poisonous fangs can no longer take a hold
I wish for something better
Only come up with more excuses
The way things are going, there’s no real way of knowing
What is truth and what is a lie
Everything you are conditioned to believe
I despise
Tormented by my own mind
Can’t seem to focus even for a moment
My own worst enemy with me at all times
If I give up now which part is the lie
Three years and counting
Adding up to something I don’t realize
Giving away everything one word at a time
Tomorrow maybe, but today I don’t know
Not sure how it is I ever will
Left wondering, left out in the cold
I know there is an end but where to begin
Lost in tranquility, Lost in retaliation
Full of words with nothing to say
Revenge is everything and nothing
A steaming pile of shit I have to get through
Letting go seems to be the hardest part
When this self-sacrificing bullshit is getting old
When all the unused words build up in my head

Buried Under Three Feet of Shit

Can’t stop this even if I tried
Thousand Broken bones
Blood dripping from every wound
A fucking mess
Still going strong
Still going after all and everything
What stops the will to live when you are already dead?
Contradict myself with a mouth full of shit
Bending back my neck to understand any of this
Twisting and pulling until it connects
What makes up a soul
Makes us whole
Worthlessly sinking in a sea of shit and piss
If only I knew how to swim
Could I then know what it means to live
What if I already did but only refused?
Compound fracture, compound interjection
Still hanging on by a thread, a lifeline attached to nothing
With all the answers locked in my head
Head pulled back I’ve learned all that I have been told to know
Kicking under the surface still going under
Education is nothing more than an endurance test
Testing everything I know against everything I don’t
Strange how I once thought now I just forget
Going on is harder against the undertow
Going forward is harder pressed upon the wall
Going on seems to be the hardest part after all
Circumstances uncertain, left for dead, three feet under
A bed, a sea, an existence of shit


Well if that doesn’t sum up the year that was 2020… I’m not even going to waste my time in hoping next year will be any better… expectations are just a let down at this point… all hope isn’t gone… but would it make a difference anymore if it was?…

Also I know how to swim… well I haven’t drowned yet… so you can infer whatever you like from that… for some reason I feel that you need to know this… I’m not even proud of that fact… given that I won’t even get in a body of water… cesspools full of shit… you’d think I would feel at home… but I don’t…

Ready to get to this new year already… and leave last year in the past… that is saying a lot… considering as each day passes… that is one less day that I never had… feelings get lost in the emotions… ideas get buried under the thoughts… and I seem to disappear as each day goes on… How is any day different… if it is all one long day to begin with?… Yeah… I’m ready to face the new year and everything that comes with it…

Happy New Year From Everyone At Is That A Funeral?…

That Is A Cat On A Hoodie…

Not Just Any Cat… But A Demon Cat…

Which Means… It Will Keep You Extra Warm…

(Demon Cats Aren’t Real… Also We Have No Way To Prove This… That Cat Though Was Super Psycho… Haunted By Something From Another Dimension… That Photo Wasn’t Even Manipulated… Yeah… Let That Sink In… Demon Cat In My Book…)

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