When There Is No More Room… Part 4…

Finding Peace in the Darkness

Scratching the walls with my nails. I want more. Another day or another night. I can’t resist the temptation of the kill. They said it would go away. It hasn’t. They said over time things would become normal. They haven’t. Everything they said never came true. Staring into the darkness around my bed. Dancing figures in my head. I want to kill now more than ever. Drinking a little bit more and think about something else. The thought won’t go away. What’s the difference if I do it for my country or for myself? Pacing again. Over and over with no place to go. I see them all outside my window. Staring back at me. Waiting. Always waiting. Becoming something more than myself. Twenty kills, thirty kills, they took more of me than I could ever give away. I can give it back. I know how. Ten inches made of steel. Sharped to a point. Carve them up. Take piece by piece until nothing is left. They will never know. Scatter the pieces. Too hard to find. Too hard to prove. The feelings will subside then. Take what I’m owed. I have all the reason to do what I want. Earned my place amongst them. What’s the difference?

Scratching at the walls with my knife. I know the reason but I can’t bring myself to the cause. I’m not weak. I’m not too weak to do what I need to do. Fuck you, I’m not scared. I can do it. I know I can because I have. Over there I did whatever they told me. What needed to be done. Their eyes burned into my mind. Life slowly draining. The relief of living another day surging inside of me. I am safe. I don’t need to do this. There is no reason to kill again. The power is fleeting. Underrated as they laugh. I hear them laughing. Look at the hero with nothing. In the shadows I watch. Pissing it all away. No more wars to fight. No more battles to be won. Cutting out their tongues.  Their eyes looking back at me. Like before. Before when no one laughed. Everything is so meaning less standing in place. I need a purpose. I know my purpose. I have no purpose. Take the blade to myself. End this suffering. Take away this pain digging in my head. No, I am not weak. I am not weak.

She scratches at the walls with her nails. They never did this before. Always fought back. Not the same. Fight me I shout at her. Nothing, weak, useless she cries. Kick her in the side again. One life to live. This is how you choose to leave it. Knife pressed against her throat. Noises and no words. Aren’t they all the same? Weak. Take her apart piece by piece. Going to need rope. She won’t sit still. Won’t fight. Barely a struggle. Just the tip. Let her know how it feels. Should have gotten a male. Spit in her face. Drag the tip across her skin. Arm swings. That’s what I need. Give me more I whisper into her ear. She shakes in fear. Hand around her throat. Enough playing. Go for the kill. My brain explodes. She goes quiet. Hacking away more and more. Take everything spread it around. Wear her blood on my skin. A war paint I don’t want to erase. Do you feel that? How does it feel? It went away. A calm wave washing over me. Peace at last. Peace at last.

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When There Is No More Room… Part 3…

“Doctor, I need you go speak with Stephanie. She still hasn’t got out of bed. It has been almost three days,” the nurse tells him. I don’t look up from my desk.  My pen digs deeper into the chart I’m working on. The nurse holds on to my office door to afraid to fully enter, “Doctor, did you hear me?” Pushing the pen the tip deeper into the chart. “Is there anything else?” I asks looking up to her with a fake smile. “No, I guess not,” she answers before closing the door and disappearing. The pen tip snaps spilling ink all over the chart, “What could the little psychopath possibly be up to now?”

I enter Stephanie’s room and the first thing to hit me is the smell. The smell of three day old shit and piss. Jesus Christ does no one do their job around here? Doesn’t matter I think as I rub my forehead in frustration. Lighting up a cigarette to try and mask the smell I fight the need to vomit. “Stephanie may I have a moment of your time?” I ask in the fakest version of myself I can. She only sits there on her bed with her knees to her chest staring at me. “The silent treatment for me as well. That’s fine I suppose. It won’t help you I’m afraid,” I take another step into the room. Her eyes burn with a furry. All of their eyes have this look. A look none of my medical books have ever been able to explain. The two orderlies I brought with me wait a few steps behind me. I can hear them as they try not to breathe. Unfortunately that isn’t much of an option at the moment.  

“Heard it has been over three days since you’ve attempted to get up. Moving around is good for your mind you know? A little outdoor time. Maybe some sun would make you feel better?” Still nothing only her burning eyes. “I also heard you are refusing to eat for the nurses but I see you have some of the plates there in your bed. That is good. That is positive. What isn’t so positive and judging by the smell in this room I have to believe is true? Is that you have been pissing and defecating the bed again. We’ve talked about this Stephanie. We can’t have you doing this. It isn’t healthy or sanitary. To be quite frank it isn’t really fair to the staff. That is beyond the point though. Stephanie you need to get out of bed.” My anger begins to rise as I stomp out my cigarette and light another one. Her eyes burning. Their eyes so dark. Sometimes I just want to grab them by the throat and watch the flames slowly smolder out. No, push it down. You are here to help them.

“Stephanie you need to get out of bed now,” I inform her unsympathetically. “Bring her back,” she screams at me. My ears ringing I fight the urge to scream along with her, “She doesn’t exist. We have been over this.” The fire rages in her eyes, “Bring her back.” Bits of dried shit fall off her arms as she screams. “She doesn’t exist therefore we can’t bring her back. We have been over this. You need to understand this Stephanie,” I shout threw her screams. “She does exist and you took her away from me,” her whole body shakes with every word. The orderlies rush to my side but I signal them to stay back. I can feel my own frustration and my own anger fighting to release itself. “Enough of this screaming Stephanie,” I say with a stern voice. “There is no reason to scream at me. I promise you we never took her away because she is not real.” She shakes her head no causing more dried shit to fall off her body. “You are a liar. You took her just to make me unhappy. Just to make me suffer. You are just like them. Just like everyone else,” she throws herself into her pillows.

I take a step closer, “Now why on earth would I do something like that? I’m here to help you get better. You are here to get better. So let me help you. Let us help you get there. Let’s get out of the bed and get you cleaned up.” Her face still buried in her shit covered pillow, “Not until you bring her back to me.” Standing just out of arms reach of her the smell is becoming too much to bare. “Stephanie this is no way to live. We need to get you out of this bed,” I say as calmly as one can in this situation. Staring at her I wonder where everything went wrong. How could such a beautiful girl turn into such a mess? If this were another life or if things had worked out differently I would have been staring at her up on a screen. Not in a room with her shit smeared on the walls. This world can be too much to take at times. Before I even have time to react. Stephanie springs from her bed and tackles me to the floor. With her hands around my throat she begins to scream, “Bring her back.”

Despite her small frame she has a strength I don’t understand. The two orderlies fight to get her off of me, but with every ounce of effort her hands grip tighter to my throat. Her screaming fills the tiny room with so much noise. My ears ring as I try to fight her. I try to find a place on her body that isn’t covered in shit as my hands slide off her skin. I just want to help them. I can’t understand what is happening. That’s all I ever wanted to do. But right now I just want to kill her. Gouge out her little eyes and watch her scream in pain. So disoriented as all my sense become over stimulated confusion sets in.  A nurse runs into the room and injects her with a syringe of diazepam. She fights the effects as I fight for air. Fight the urge to not kill the life from her. I feel the strength leave her hands and her weight off my chest. Inhaling deeply the smell of the room takes over as I vomit on to the floor. Staring into my own pool of vomit. I am left wondering why is it that any of this needs to exist.

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

Look for part 4 next week… (3/20)… Hopefully you are all enjoying this… if not well it will only torture you for once a week from now on… : )

Hope all is well…

When There Is No More Room… Part 2… I Said…

I Said

“I’m not feeling particularly violent today. I mean no one was asking me to be. I just don’t feel it. Some days I can really feel it,” she says with a smile. The smile washes away from her face, “But not today. No, today I feel rather joyous and a bit vain. Callus is the word? No that is something that happens to the skin. What is the word that I am trying to say?” A silence fills the room as she stares at the wall. “Hey, do you want to know something else about skin? Do you know what happens when direct heat is applied? You know like fire.” Again she stares as she waits for an answer as she waves butane torch in her hand wildly. “Stumped you huh? Well silly it doesn’t just turn black. You know like with raw meat. No the skin bubbles first. Bubbles and bubbles until the water trapped inside causes the epidermis to explode.” She begins to laugh hysterically at the screams of her victim.

“Do you still think?” She screams into the victims face. “Do you think?” She asked calmly as she grabs the victim’s hair. She takes the long flowing hair and wraps it around her knuckles. She pulls the hair tight and raises it above the girl’s head. “Do you think that the same thing will happen with hair? Should we test my theory? Because I think. Well honestly I have no idea what will happen. Do you?” She asks curiously. “Better yet,” she pulls the handful of hair to the point of breaking, “Do you think that if I make you as ugly as me. You’d want me then?” She presses her scared face into the other girl’s face. Butane torch burning in the other hand. A look comes across her face as she stares into the other girl’s eyes, “Yeah bitch I didn’t get these scars sucking dick. I earned them. So let’s ask ourselves this simple question. Do you think you could ever walk in my shoes for a day? One day. That’s all.” She looks down at the victims shoes, “Because let’s face it those pumps look amazing. What size are they anyway?”

She turns the fuel knob on the butane torch to off and places it down on the carpeted floor. The girl only whimpers as tears flow down her face. “Tell me are they Capezio? Is that still even a thing? Fashion really isn’t my thing. I’m more or less into other things. Don’t get me wrong though. I like to learn.” She walks over to the dresser and picks something up. Slowly pacing back over to the girl holding something behind her back, “Do you mind if I take a look at them? You know up close? I promise I won’t hurt them.” In one rapid motion she lunges at the girl’s right foot with a hatchet in hand. Swinging the hatchet at the girls shin. Slightly above the ankle. Over and over again with everything she has the hatchet connects to flesh and bone. The room fills with the sound of screaming, laughter, and hacked away flesh. Her face sprayed with blood at every hack. Wave after wave of blood. The victim flails her leg in pain the best she can against the restraints. The victim’s whole body begins to convulse until it doesn’t.

She sits crossed legged on the floor staring at what is left of the girl’s foot. “Really don’t think these are so great after all. You know with all the blood on them and everything. Hey, are you still with me princess?” She asks her. She taps the girls left leg with the side of the hatchet. “I’m talking to you.” She slams the hatchet blade side down into the victim’s right thigh. The hatchet stands in place as she slaps the girl over and over, ‘I said that I’m talking to you.” She screams words of nothing with everything she has into the girl’s face. “That bitch is dead.” Sad she tosses the hacked off foot behind her. It lands on the bed with a soft thud as it bounces into the pillows. “We were just starting to have fun.” She says with a pouted face. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that. Stupid, stupid,” she hits herself on the side of the head over and over. Rubbing her knuckles against the scars.  The smell of smoke slowly fills the room. She looks around confused until she sees the knocked over torch. Watching the trail of fire as it spreads to the bed. “Well fuck, Father isn’t going to like this.” Random limbs hang from the ceiling as the fire takes everything.

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

I’m so excited for this project… I’ll probably fuck it up in some way… but I’m excited none the less… That’s all for now…

Broken Thoughts… Just Got To Move On… Best Of Luck…

Driven under, fighting for a breath
I’m drowning and I don’t know what for
A prayer for the sinner
Living in your sin
Useless words laid down on paper
Talking to myself, preaching to the stupid
Driven under, holding myself down
I know the problem and I have no solution
A prayer for the sinner
Living with this sin
I’m killing myself and I don’t know what for
Has it really always been for you?

 

The world is shit
Deal with it

 

Getting lost in the words
Getting lost in the why
Wandering, don’t have to go far
To find reasons to die
Worlds full of them
Reasons to live, they are hard to find
Hope you like a mystery
What is it that I’m thinking about today
A puzzle, getting caught up in all of this
Getting lost in the words
Getting lost in the why
Same place I was before

 

Drinking harder than I’d like to admit
Catching up to the darkness inside
A piece of me I’d love to hide, on display

 

Standing next to a burning dumpster fire
Called it my heart once now it’s only filled with shit
Thoughts of you, me, how it should be
Fucking lies I’ve told myself to get by
And now I’ve told you everything
Everything to make you stay
The ship already set sail
Waving to me from the shore
You smile but I know what it means
Saying good bye was always the hardest part for me

 

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Well that was a depressing post… afraid the next few will be much of the same… I haven’t written much of anything… if at all in the last month… and everything before that… well it was pretty dark… dark as it gets I would say… Maybe I’ll drain my soul… maybe I’ll just hold onto all the hurt… chewing on the glass that has been my pain as of lately… taking it slow because for the first time in a long time… I don’t really know… what it is that I’m trying to say… 

 

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Walking Through The Lake Of Fire

Staring Into Your Eyes

Nothing is taking this feeling away
Painful reminder I’m not who I thought I was
An example that you never did
Love me like you said you did
A lie, a waste of time
How can I really still feel this way
Nothing adds up to anything
Looking around, living the lie
See everything now
Rip out my eyes if I could
Memories still buried deep in my mind
Clearly something is wrong with me
Too stupid to see past my own stupidity
Love is a lie and I’m living it all the time
Excuses don’t mean the same
Reasons for why
Grinding out the thoughts
None of these seems real
Where does the truth begin
And the rest of this end
In you

 

Fighting For Something That Doesn’t Exist

I’ve been pensive lately
Don’t mind me
Been lost in thoughts
Of morality, love, and reasons
Too much time spent in my head
Has lead me to question every where
I’ve been lead
A battle no one could ever win
Trying to figure it out
Looking to understand
Studying everything that you are
All of these reasons
You all seems so dead
A broken spirit, an over looked gaze
None of this makes sense
Though I’m always told
This is the way it has always been
World full of choices
Words full of things left unsaid
Decisions that have never made any sense
A life we were told to live
Thank you, love you, miss you
You could not understand
When you were here
But here is too late
Fighting for something that doesn’t exist
I look around me, deep inside, through the shit
Wondering am I too ready to accept this fate

 

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A change of pace from the Broken Thoughts of lately… I could talk about these poems… but I said what I needed to say… Shit hurts moving on… thoughts in my head… like a constant stabbing that doesn’t end… here I go again… my mind doesn’t shut off… it goes and goes… do you know what I mean when I say this is all there ever seems to be?… If you do… I’m sorry… blessing and a curse… miss the days before I was born… miss the life I’ve skipped out on… a life where none of this meant anything but that was all there was… a fight to be something more than content… A never ending need to feel dead… 

 

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This is better live… they do one more verse… only seen it once but amazing… 

Nothing Ever Changes…. Growing Old At The Thought…

Defying death the thing I’ve become
Say a prayer for all that you know
Silence falls on your prayer
Beyond my control
Beyond my understanding
Only human, you know what I know
Murder, fucking death
Respond  to the sins I understand
Look to the past, words
Existence I’ve failed to understand

Education was always the plan
Lost on the insecure, lost on the damned
How fucking big is your ass?

Education was always meant to sustain
A plan no one understands
Ignorance sown within our souls
Fuck your thoughts, bull shit plans
Mob rule, mob mentality
I’m owed mine, I’m owed yours
Selfish fuck that I’ve always claimed to be
The reality only a thing
Laughing at your pain
Because the realization is all too late
Sucking on the tail pipe
Slashing away, jerking off to the thought
That all of this makes no sense

Bury me with it
Bury me with all that I know
Lies, words, Santa Clause was real
Until it wasn’t 
Your parents were assholes
Honest, but still
Fucked since the word go
Hug them, love them, tried their best
Wrong, only human
I’m them, I never wanted to
Suffocating through what I know

Could blame them but know that I am them
Love them more than before
What you should know
We are all trying to hold on
Embrace them, don’t shun them
Why are we here?
Don’t ask them, suffering together
Sad fucking realization
Thank them, not me, for fucking trying

Santa Clause is real, god, everything they thought
Lost in all of this, a life I’m not willing to admit
Smashing my skull against a wall
Killing myself for everything they thought
An epic about nothing at all

Embrace everything you thought
Not special at all
The vision not what we thought
Same as we were anyway
All I was trying to say
Love them all the same

 

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Our parents are all they could be… our parents our us… fight it… believe I am wrong… but know… your parents fuck… your parents have thoughts… your parents are us after all… eww I know… gross… shake off the thought… but know you aren’t a freak… wonder if they feel like you?…  they do… no other reason… than they are human… This whole thing is a shit show… welcome to the stage… smile… let’s move the fuck on… need advice?… ask those around you… it will be awkward… believe me when I say that’s what it means to be an adult… believe me when I say they feel the same…

Shhh… you wanted the secret… well the secret was fucking lame… : )… not trying to be a dick… just saying… not trying to make you throw up… but let’s be honest… your parents have always felt the same… mind-blowing… fucking crazy… hug them all the same… because they did this… dealt with this all… long before you could ever think… fucking heroes… martyrs to the cause of it all… good or bad… they tried their fucking best… what else could you ever ask of them after all?… that’s love… Think about it… come back to me… when you understand… been there for years… just sinking in… Not original… only a copy… excuse me as I throw up at the thought… only human after all… haha… never been better than you… Never been better than the heroes I’ve loved… only human… hard at the thought… embrace my part… embrace who I am after all… why the fuck do you listen to me at all?… 

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Thoughts… comments…. leave them because all of this is fucking insane… just want to get better… don’t care about words like fame… money… I just want to sustain… so if that means negativity… if that means pain…  only want to get better… only want a reason to live… don’t care how lame… this is all I got out side of family… going to try whether or not you feel the same… all I ever wanted was to find people who feel the same… people to make me better… been a selfish ass… before I knew your name… hate me… I love you all the same… I love you for fucking being you… thank you… let the lead out… hurt no one but Know I Can Take It… maybe My Only Purpose… : )  

 

Wir haben Angst und sind allein…

Recently, well two days ago I finally got around to reading a comic called The Dead Hand.  (The graphic novel doesn’t come out until Oct. But if you are into history and comics. I can’t suggest this enough. It is well worth the preorder.) The Dead Hand tells a fictional story that takes place during the Cold War. A time where the United States, the world really didn’t know what was going to happen. I am going to do my best to say what I have to say without giving away much of the story. 

The genesis of the idea behind this story is the idea that Russia made an A.I. system that could detect an American threat. Once the threat was received the system was programmed to retaliate without hesitation, without thought. Being a comic of course it is filled with exciting things, not plausible things, fiction, but the odd thing was the fiction wasn’t the unbelievable part of the story. The fiction actually made more sense than the truth of the matter. I believe that is why it has stuck with me for the past two days.

See it wasn’t that Russia developed a complex A.I. system or the fact that they developed it before the 90’s. Before the fall of the U.S.S.R. they were somehow able to develop a system more advanced than what we have even today. That wasn’t mind-blowing to me, at all. No, it was the thought behind its creation that seems so out of this world, so fictional. The truth in all of this is that during the Cold War. The United States and Russia were more than ready to destroy the world. Not one another. That would make sense. That would be easy to process, but instead they were ready to destroy the world. The selfishness of the situation seems unreal. Then I have to stop. I have to look around and that’s when I realize. It is right on point for who we are as humans.

I find myself questioning what it means to be American often. I want to jump to the conclusion that we are everything everyone says we are, but I also like to believe that we are not. The reality is that it has nothing to do with where you are from. Any nation, any thing under a microscope will reveal things we did know where there. Things we may not have wanted to know. It is easy to point At the United States or Russia and say they are evil. They have done evil things. Evil intentions. In actually as fucked up as the Cold War was and it was pretty fucked up. It gave us more than we could have known. It gave us this among other things. The internet, which we use everyday. Both good and bad. Some of us use it for what it was intended to be used for and some use it to hurt others. That isn’t nation based. That is human. As much as I want to say that so and so is the enemy to the human race. The reality is that we are the enemy of the human race. We do this to each other. For no reason at all.

Last night there was a shooting a street down from where I live. It was a drive by. Bullets ripped through steel, through flesh and blood, and now two people lay in the hospital. The shooting was drug related as these things seem to be as of late. Probably fighting over territory. For shit that was never really there’s to begin with and as I snatch my daughter from the couch. Press her body to the floor and I try to figure what the fuck is even happening. As I lay over her body to protect her I think what is this really all for? Hours later I am left with the same feeling. I wait for what I know is going to come. More shots echo outside of my home. The thing is there are always retaliation shots. No one gets shot, shot at and thinks, “Where did I fuck up?” 

Despite putting over twenty rounds into the strangers down the street so far they have lived. I couldn’t be more upset at the fact. I shouldn’t feel that way. I should be happy. Feel as though every life is precious, but instead I am left feeling like a monster.  Of course there will be retaliation. There will be retribution. It won’t be tonight or tomorrow, but it will come. How long until someone else is left feeling like me as they hold their child in fear or worse? Because that is how we are. A nuclear apocalypse or a bullet. What’s the difference? A nation or a person what is the difference? To be human at times is fucking sick. 

 

 

 

(The title is from a German band known as Rammstein from their song Engel. It says, “We are afraid and alone.” Or at least that is what Google told me.)