Broken Thoughts… Looking To Turn My Piss Into Wine…

There seems to be a miscommunication
Between my brain and heart
Mixed signals firing off as emotions
The thought was always there
Back of my mind, deep within
A masked conundrum hidden in an enigma
Read the dictionary recently
Didn’t take anything from it but a few words
They related to hurt, hurting, and love
Lies but I don’t know which ones
Forgot to remind myself what was wrong
The hidden pictures trapped within
Flies circling the corpse that I have become
Trapped in an endless loop
They relate to death, dying, and life

If you’ve told me once I know I never listened

Joined a cult and I’ve never felt more at home
We call ourselves humanity
Sick thoughts pushed by blood
Better suited as ourselves inside
What is a name without any meaning?
What is a feeling you can’t feel?
Empathy lost on the lonely
Sick idea filled with shit
Only care about ourselves
Better suited to pretend
What are we without any pain?
What is a reason you don’t understand?
Lying to myself once again
Never belonged only snaked my way in
Couldn’t help but fit in

Took all of this and ran with it

Feeling it coming from all sides
A flame, a sensation that doesn’t stop
Burn me down so I can rise again
I’m not afraid of my place
Maybe it is time to embrace
Maybe it is time for things to be my way
Stop and fucking think for a second
Giving in was never worth the prize
A death, a sensation that will signal the end
Fall down only to get back up
Say it over and over again
A broken chant you need to memorize
Light the bonfire and jump in
Let’s get this going already
Light as a feather
Stiff as a fucking board

It’s not appropriate to the current situation

Carrying the weight of everything with every step
What I was told was not what is true
World built upon lies, bullshit we tell ourselves
Dumpster fire with no regrets
Shedding skin to relieve myself
Hate myself but what choice did I ever have
The words hurt and maybe they were supposed to
Standing up to all the shit
Tired of forcing myself to fit

Driving on an endless road… shouting out broken thoughts… that make no sense… no I haven’t gone crazy… part of the process… testing out voice to texted limitations… spreading the madness with no hands… been thinking… what if everyone knew all my thoughts?… what would I write about then?… what would I do with all these god damn dreams?… then I thought… what the fuck am I doing with them now?… guess it doesn’t matter what I think if none of it is real… yeah the questions don’t breed answers… only thoughts…

Staring at an empty screen… thinking of what to say… when I don’t have anything to say today… a lie I can’t live up to… never shut the fuck up… an endless fucking avalanche of thought… running out of all the things that will make me rot… too much free time that I don’t know what to do… so many free moments that I forgot… what is a dream but unactuated thoughts… like the words we make up… nothing at all… broken ideas of a thought…

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

The Memorial Day Incident

                “Just a little bit further Jason we need to get a good spot for your first parade.” The woman pulls her son through the crowd. The child looks scared and continues to mumble louder and louder after each person he brushes past. “What are you saying Jason?” The mother stops to hear her son in the large crowd. “I raped that little girl and it burns in my mind. I wonder if she even remembers, but she was so drunk she probably doesn’t,” the little boy says. “What are you talking about Jason?” the mother shrieks in horror. “I don’t like the crowd mom can we go back to the car?” “What were you saying before Jason?” “I didn’t say anything before mommy,” the boy says confused. The woman crouches down to be face to face with her son, “Yes you did and you should never repeat whatever it is you just said. You are much too young to be using those words or to even know them.” “What words? Are you mad at me?” The woman stands up and takes her child into her arms, “Never mind, I’m not mad at you sweetie.”  “Can we go back to the car?” the child asks once again. The woman puts him back on the ground. “Yes we can go back to the car,” she says disappointed. “We just have to go back through the crowd. Can you do that?” The little boy nods his head yes and she takes his hand once again. They start to make their way through the crowd and almost immediately he begins to mumble again as he slips by people in the crowd. This time however it is a different woman that hears him not his mother. “What did he just say?” the stranger asks his mother. “Sorry?” she asks the stranger. “What did your son just say to me?” Confused Jason’s mother tells the woman, “Nothing he doesn’t know what he is saying. The crowd is making him very nervous and scarred.” “That’s no excuses for lying about my father like that,” the stranger says in anger. “What?” Jason’s mother asks. “Your little bastard kid just said my dad like to touch me in my sleep and that I liked it. Which is bull shit lady my dad’s a fucking saint.” The crowd around them grows slowly quite to hear what they are saying. “Why is she yelling mom?” “Because she is confused,” his mother says while taking his hand again. “Fuck that I’m not confused your son is just a sick freak.” “Like I said he is scarred and nervous because of the crowd. He doesn’t know what he is saying and you are just making it worse for him.” “I’m making it worse?” the lady says while throwing up her arms. “I’ll show him what worse really is.” The stranger eyes the child as someone steps up to them. “Excuses me is there a problem here?” a uniformed police officer asks the two ladies. “Yes there is her fucking bastard child is making up stuff about my father and me.” “Ma’am the language is not appropriate. He is just a child he probably just doesn’t know what he said.”

The cop kneels down to be at Jason’s level. He places his hand on the child’s shoulder, “Why don’t you just say you’re sorry, and you and your lovely mother can enjoy the rest of the parade.” “I shot him because he was black. I knew he didn’t have a weapon, but I shot him anyways. What’s the world with one less black man? A better place,” Jason says to the cops face. The cop turns a lighter shade of pale, “Excuse me?” “Oh my god Jason I can’t believe you just said that. That is enough,” his mother says while picking him up. “I’m so sorry,” the mother tries to explain to the cop. The police officer ignores her. “That never happened. He had a gun so I shot him,” he says to himself. The crowd grows even quieter as the cop backs away from the mother and child. “Told you the kid was a freak,” the stranger says. “Shut up,” the officer says to the woman. The crowd murmurs while staring at the cop. “So what if he was black?” the cop asks while looking around at the people around him. “A criminal is a criminal and I did what I had to do to protect myself,” the cop mumbles to himself. “Mom I want to go home I’m scared.” Jason puts his head in the crook of his mother’s neck. He buries his head as deep as she begins to speak, “I’m just going to take my son home if that is okay with you officer. He didn’t mean what he said and doesn’t even know what he is saying.” The cop doesn’t look up as he speaks, “That is probably for the best ma’am.”

The mother turns to walk through the crowd once again. Two people in front of the crowd move right out of the way making sure to not touch the child as they pass by. “That’s it,” the stranger shouts before throwing her arms down and walking away. As his mother tries to go around a rather large man Jason’s dangling foot lightly touches the man’s arm. “I buried them under my house. The smell is starting to get to me but in a way I like it,” Jason says. The man has a face of shock as he tries to move away without anyone noticing. Jason mother stops dead in her tracks as someone from the crowd shouts, “Someone get that man.” “Why I’ve done nothing the wrong here,” the man says while trying to push through the crowd that will not move. “Just because a child says something that makes it true?” the man asks the crowd. Jason’s mother sets her son back on the ground, “What did you do?” “I didn’t do anything,” the man says nervously. “This is Officer Johnson, I need back up on the intersection of Fifth and Jackson,” the officer says into his communicator. “Backup?” the man questions out loud. “There’s no need for backup I didn’t do anything.” The officer pulls his gun from its holster, “Please put your hands behind your head.” “Hey, watch it there trigger finger I didn’t do anything.” “Then you won’t mind putting your hands behind your head? I won’t ask again.” “Okay so some crazy fucking kid says something and we’re all going to believe him?” The crowd is still silent as the people behind the man slowly move away. “My son is not crazy. I don’t know what is wrong with him, but he is not crazy.” The man grabs her throat and begins to choke her. “Your son is crazy,” the man grips tighter on her throat, “Fucking say it.” The man pulls her in front of his body as the officer fires two rounds. The two shots hit her right in the chest. The man releases his grip on the woman’s throat as she falls to her knees. Jason’s mother coughs up blood as the officer also goes down to his knees.

The crowd begins to cry out and run in all directions, “Nice job officer dip shit. I guess we will just have to add another innocent death to your list.” Jason has not moved from his spot as he stands there stunned. The large stranger walks up to Jason and grabs him by the shoulders as he raises him high into the air. “Why did you do this you little brat?” the man screams as he shakes the child. Jason begins to cry out a mixture of mumbles and tears. “I sliced her open like she was a deer or some other wild animal.” “Shut up,” the man says as he shakes the child harder. “Put the kid down,” the officer tries to say but the words just fall to the ground. “Another, I fucked her while she bleed out all over my garage floor,” Jason begins to laugh but it is not the laughter of a child. “Shut the fuck up,” the man says as he wraps his powerful hands around Jason’s throat. The man squeezes as hard as he can as Jason fights to say something, “I prefer to asphyxiate my victims and I save it for the special ones.” Too weak to move Jason hangs there as the man begins to shake him once again, “I said shut up.” “Put the kid down,” the officer tries again. The officer rises to his feet, “What’s another dead piece of shit?” The cop fires all of the remaining bullets, but one into the man’s body. The cop takes the burning hot barrel and places it into his mouth blowing out the back of his head. Back up finally arrives on the scene to find all the dead people on the ground.

True fucking story I tell the people across from me. A few of them are my friends and a few of them aren’t.  They even have a name for what happened even though most of the people back home like to pretend it never happened. “What’s it called I’ll Google it right now?” a naïve girl asks from across the fire. “You won’t get any signal out here. We are in the middle of nowhere,” another girl says. “Okay whatever I’ll write it down and look it up later what was it called?” As dramatically as I can be I tell them what it was called. It is called the Memorial Day Incident. “What kind of fucking name for something is that? That stories such bull shit,” the girl says. “No it really happened,” a friend of mine says. “Okay then what happened to Jason?” I start to say something, before being cut off. “I want him to tell me,” she demands. “What happened to Jason? That’s what you want to know?” my friend asks. The girl nods her head, “Yeah what happened to Jason?” “Jason died that’s what happened to him. The large man shook him so hard that his neck snapped,” the friend explains as he looks over at me. “I still think it is all bull shit, but whatever. Who else has an actual scary story to tell?”

More short stories and stories like this can be found in Drinking Bleach… my book of short stories… now available on Amazon… check out some more cool stuff on Threadless… and tell me how much I suck over on Twitter… I feel so dirty… but my doctors tell me I have to eat… and to pay their bills… bunch of quacks if you ask me…

With The Bodies Piling Up In The Corner… I Thought You Should Know…

Head Seems Stuck

Fucking asshole with a face
Spewing your toxic shit all over me
Who the hell do you think you are
No one at all
Follow along because I don’t know better
Woke to an idea
An idea that doesn’t mean shit
Respect is a worthless term
What am I worth to your overall need
Burning down your broken ideas
Inhaling this feeling, go away
Lost, trapped, where have you been?
Is god supposed to mean something
To the devil it is all the same
An honesty that can’t be hidden
Rethink what you believe
In a world of lies
Stacking shit miles high
Stacking piles of you all along the road
Life was worth so much more
When it was worth nothing at all

All Worked Up

Shaking your ass like no one gives a shit
Blind to your own pain
Take away all the anger
Only left with shame
How I’ve longed to feel the same
Centerfold for all my hate
Spreading your ass like no one means a thing
Numb to your own vanity
Took away all the essence
Of a being
My heart was sold on a first glance
Sold my soul for a taste
Need a name, registration
Living under the tree of your needs
The blood flows through the roots
Extension of an idea
The tension is killing me
Each gust of wind pushing harder
Digging out my own grave
Fall into the silence of an endless existence
Bodies piling up in the corner
I thought you should know
They’re all for something more
Worship, adore, used, useless
Distasteful way of saying
I’ve saved the best for last

Another poem about work?… yeah fuck that place… not sure what about work… but I don’t need a reason to be pissed off about that place… I mean they want me to interact with these walking asshole and be happy about it?… as if… Work isn’t that bad most days… that was hard to type… it really isn’t… I could be doing worse things… what they are… I’m not sure… but if I was doing them… I could tell you right away… haha…

Poem 2 is dirty… digging a grave isn’t easy… if you have done it… you know what I am talking about… cheap joke… what you come here for… poem 2 is about a serial killer… or a murderer… the want… the obsession… the dissatisfaction… and the need for more… I didn’t research this in the field… hell I didn’t even mean to write it… Netflix is just over saturated with true crime documentaries… and I have a want… an obsession … a dissatisfaction… and a need to watch them all…

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

So Some of You May Have Noticed…

That there hasn’t been any new post for When There Is No More Room…. and basically after this one there won’t be… Some shit came up… but unlike the last year or so… this shit was all positive… It also has kind of hindered a lot of my plans for the rest of the year… but I’m excited about it so that is something… I started working on my next novel… because I have started writing my next novel… I lost interest in finishing a failed one…

For those of you who really enjoyed When There Is No More Room... I am sorry… I wanted to finish it… I fought the last couple of weeks to get it done… but honestly my heart isn’t there… I’m sure many of you could feel it on the last couple of post I did for it… if you didn’t I am glad… I wasn’t trying to phone anything I wrote in… in my head though it felt like I was… the plan was to just push through it… get it done… and on the next project… have it all fully written and fleshed out… something I didn’t do for When There Is No More Room

Well kind of… I had doctor parts from a failed third book from years ago… but that was it… even they had to be rewritten and worked… the rest was just me sitting down at the computer… thinking how do I kill people?… pulling stories from my ass… and I thought that would last until the end… turns out I didn’t have anything more to pull out of my ass… by about mid way… I didn’t hate No More Room… I felt like I came up with some pretty great stuff in the beginning… maybe some stuff I’d like to go back to at a later date… but for the most part it did what it needed to do for me… and that was get me writing again… get me interested in writing stories again… which it has…

Many… if not all… of you are writers… not all are novelist or have any interest in writing a novel… there are a lot of ups and downs… a fuck ton of false starts… and a million ideas that don’t lead to no where… then you have to write the fucking thing… don’t even get me started on editing… I hate editing… takes too god damn long… and if you do it right… by the time you are done editing… you are pretty much at the point of fuck this piece of shit… why did I ever think that I could write in the first place??… maybe that last part is me… : )

So I am excited to get that going… but I am also bummed that I didn’t finish No More Room… I will however post the original ending… how it was meant to end… I did have that written from before… I will drop that below this excuse… I also have some fun facts to share about the project… I will post that at the end as well… again I apologies that I didn’t finish the story properly… and I thank those of you who stuck with it…

Layne Ambrose


I Think We Are Alone Now

“I’m scared Chris do we really have to be here so late? Couldn’t we have come earlier in the day?” She asks pressing against me. I’m scared too, but I don’t let her know that. “Don’t be scared baby. I just wanted to show you around that’s all,” I tell her. “You’ve been here before this late?” She asks. “Of course I have,” I tell her as we sneak up the dilapidated stairs. “Don’t give me that look,” I don’t even look at her, but even in the dark I can tell she has one on her face. “Well who were you here with last?” She asks rather loud. She stops in her tracks. “Are you serious right now?” I whisper. “I just want to know who you were here with last? What’s her name?” She asks even louder. “Baby, I wasn’t here with only one person. My friends and I used to come here all the time. I told you that before,” I whisper. The sound of shuffling feet comes from nowhere. We grab each other tight. “What was that? Is this place really haunted? Didn’t something happen in the 50’s?” she whispers in fear.

I listen for any more sounds and I don’t hear anything. I pull on her gently to continue going up the stairs, “Some people say they hear voices of past patients, but I’ve never heard anything like voices here.” We climb one more flight of stairs and I slowly open the door at the top. We sneak our way into the hallway. “Can we just go already? I don’t like it here at all. It feels really cold for some reason,” she whines. “We already climbed the stairs and the really cool stuff is up here. Stand closer to me and you will warm up. This building is super old and it is a cold night. Imagine being one of the patients?” I ask her. She doesn’t say anything. “There is only a few things I want you to see and then we can go?” I kiss her on the cheek. “There wasn’t anything cool you could have shown me on the first floor?” She asks in a worried voice. “No, the really good stuff is on this floor. This is where they had some of the patients and the shock treatment equipment,” I can’t hide my excitement.

“I don’t think we should be messing with that stuff,” she pleads. “Oh, don’t worry no one’s around so, no one is going to care. It will be fun I promise. Plus you said you wanted to see it,” I remind her. “Really starting to regret agreeing to any of this. I hope we don’t hear anything scary up here,” she says. “Why afraid you’ll scream and wake everyone up?” I ask jokingly. “Haha, like I care about that,” she says mockingly. “Well you should,” I say in a creepy voice. “They kept some serious freaks here. Nearly anyone in this region the state thought were to broken to put in jail,” I tell her. “Why didn’t they just kill them then?” She asks. “You shouldn’t talk like that. What if you piss one of them off?” I ask. “What if I do? It’s not like they can do anything about it?” She states. “Can we just go a little bit faster? I’m only being cautious because this building is pretty old,” I tell her. “So this place isn’t safe?” She asks surprised.

“Great so you’re putting my life at risk? This is one hell of a date,” she whines. “This is a date?” I ask confused. “Seriously?” she shakes her head. “At this rate you’d be lucky if I even admit to knowing who you are after this,” she warns. “Sorry, I thought we were only hanging out. I didn’t realize it was a date. I didn’t even think you were really that in to me,” I stop to tell her. “And if you had known?” She asks. “Well I wouldn’t be trying to impress you right now with how brave I am. I would have taken you to a much more romantic place then this shit hole,” I tell her. “Well how about we get out of here and do just that?” She asks staring into my eyes. I lean in to kiss her on the lips. With my eyes close I hear her words. “Do you smell that?”

I stop leaning and smell around us, “All I smell is you.” A look of horror comes across her face, “It smells like fresh cigarettes. I think someone is up here.” I put my hands on her shoulders, “Didn’t you see all that dust and ash coming up here? It has been sometime since anyone has been up here.” She starts shaking. “You shouldn’t be here,” a voice says from behind us. “What the fuck,” she screams as she runs back down the hall way. I turned to see where the voice is coming from. “There’s no one there,” I say out loud. “I know,” she screams behind me. “But there is no one there,” I say to myself to paralyzed to move. The smell of cigarette smoke washes over me, “I said you shouldn’t be here.” The sound of shuffling feet fills the hall way, but no one is there. “Do you have an appointment?” the voice asks as I black out.

This was a long ass post… probably should have made an appointment for your time… yeah that was bad… so as promised fun facts about this story… some lose ends tied up as well…

Fun Fact... The title of this story comes from the tagline of my favorite movie of all time… “When there is no more room in hell the dead shall walk the earth”... Any guesses?… hopefully none… but it is from Dawn of the Dead (1978)… If you caught that early one… you might have guessed the ending… if not then it was just something fun for me…

Lose end… So originally this whole thing was going to be my third book… doctor… patient… back and forth… I tried to do a smaller version here on the website… basically everything that the doctor was saying was after they all died because he was trapped in “hell”… reliving every day he had to work at the shit box asylum… the patient stories all took place before the fire… or before they all died…

Fun Fact… the doctor bitching about the facility was the real killer… not him… he honestly wanted to help them… fought to keep the place up and running… tried to get them the help he believed he could provided… but the state was like fuck’em… so we was waging a war on all fronts… which broke his mind… then he died… because the shit building fell apart somehow… I didn’t have that part worked out yet… that’s a twofer…

Lose end… the doctor and his brother… that plot thread was an add on from the beginning… so years ago… I believe I hinted at it here in the smaller story… I was going to take it out… but just as I did then… I liked the idea that the doctor had a reason for being a doctor… also the back and forth between him and his brother was interesting to me… something I needed to work out… didn’t… and now it is like what the fuck?… it had a bigger overall theme in the original…

I think that was it… Did you catch all the weird 50’s or earlier references in the patient’s stories?… if you have any questions?… are pissed that I didn’t finish it?… don’t give a shit?… or just want to say hi?… leave a comment at the bottom… for those of you who cared… I hope this was at least something to put an end to the story for you…

Broken Thoughts… Exaggerating My Importance To Society…

A place I once knew
A thought I thought
Understood by only me
This is for everything you’ve done
Everything you’ve become
A nightmare I once knew
A thought I thought
Understood by no one
This is for everything you’ve written
Everything you’ve become
A heart I once knew
A thought that over takes me
Understood you’d understand
This is everything you’ve meant to me
Everything I thought you were
Take the breath right out of me
Took the words out of my soul
Taken everything I used to be

Does any of it matter?

A break between the waves
Air, water, food the rest is pointless
Conditioned to believe I’m doing the right thing
Sacrifice, suffer, endure only a symptom
A schism from underground
Realizing now the end was never the point
The present was always the tomb

If none of it ever did?

The devil’s making her way inside
Her cape draped, drips with crimson
The genius that it is
A flashing image of imagination
A reality stuck in my head
Why is it we question anything that is said?
Why is it we want to be lead so blindly?
God told me once, said some shit about shutting the fuck up
The secrets we’re never meant to be spoken
Only thought about in the darkness of the mind
The dark ages such a lovely time
Truth spread like a plague, killing all of those who said
The age of information, the day of reckoning around the corner
A sin with nothing to say
Are you, is anyone ever prepared for the truth?
Are you, is anyone willing to?
Dancing blindly in the dark
The world was never yours
What give you the belief heaven is any different?
Her trail of crimson grows with every step

Dying inside is a solitary burden.

No one tries to take anything from you
They just did
Selfish and selfless
Explain the meaning and tell me the difference
To get something from nothing
And make it last
Has to be the hardest of all
A diamond in a sea of shit
Shinning but muted
Explain the meaning and tell me the difference

Really need to change this image… need to do a lot of things… won’t go into a long rant right now… not really up to it… just trying to get through the day… feeling lazy… well I’m feeling like I want to take on a million things… and nothing at all at the same time… does that makes sense?.. yeah… I don’t get it either…

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

All The Things You Expect Of Me… And Then Some…

I Can Almost Reach

My shame burned into my face
Feeling the words more than I want
Stabbing you deep inside me
A feeling that means so much
Only for a moment in time
Forever locked away
This is the land of opportunity
Each level requires registration
Skin and blood have much in common
In that they are never enough
The color isn’t black and white
Off color green, dead beliefs burned into
Everything we say
Nothing matters when you are free
Up on a cross to get away
Crucifixion means more than
We’d like to believe
A faith in nothing leaves only a lost feeling
Take what you can get
Shape it into something
Turn it into freedom, chains dangling at your feet
Unbroken chains we pay to escape
Nothing ever goes away
Doesn’t matter what you believe
Everything will always be
Just out of reach

Running Out of Ink

Trapped in a parasitic existence
Looking into the eyes of those you hurt
Future unavoidable, forever left failing
Doing it right is doing it wrong
Giving it everything is all that we know
Trapped, left incomplete, purpose
Reasons never explained
Always pushed in our faces
We say
We understand
Have we, could we, hold me
The truth is there is no reason
Hard to swallow a shallow existence
Doing it wrong is doing it right
Fall in place marching to your death
Same as me, same as the rest
A million progressions going every way
Tracing a path to the same place
Ink foaming at the mouth
Spitting blood, are you sick?
Living with it
Future wrote before it has been read
How does it feel to be so human?
What does it matter if it never mattered?
Questioning everything to do with
Your existence

If you look really close at the image… you may notice the concrete in the background…

I’m really proud of the first one… I almost saved it for submissions… but fuck it… I’m sure it would just be rejected like everything else… I don’t like to brag or think that I am this great writer… but… there are some great lines in this one… The first part is weird… a lot of weird phrasing about how I hate my job and station in life at the moment… Then a bunch of lines about how the world is trying to fuck me… no matter how hard I fight it… or you fight it… or anyone… because no matter where you are in life… the next step is just as hard… if not harder than the last one… so enjoy it now because it is only going to suck more tomorrow…

So what the fuck does that mean?… give up?… fight harder?… it means whatever the fuck you want it to mean… we are all at different levels… some of us want to go to the top…. some don’t… but don’t let the dream fool you into believing everything will be better if… yeah if… if I had this… if I had that… if I was there… if I had done this… If is whatever you want it to be… we are all chasing it… but none of us ever catch it… ask around… if we get the time we can all cry about it later… such is life…

Poem 2… was originally called Existence… it was kind of lame… it was similar in tone as the last one… except with having to do with the outside world… it had more to dealing with the one in my head… Kind of a full day for me… I get all worked up about the outside self… calm myself down… and start thinking about how fucked up I am on the inside… how I’m not good enough… how I’ll never get any where in life… doing everything right is doing it wrong… because no matter what I do… still in the same place…

From here it is a basic downward spiral… that’s my day in condensed form… really though I’d say it is more like a heart rate monitor… up and down at a rapid speed until the end of the day where it is more like this………….^…………………

I’m sure an image would have been much easier to understand… but I like making you work for it… haha… there’s no good transition to end this… so that was that… I guess… Ambrose out… no… that was pretty lame… hope all is well…

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

Broken Thoughts… Saving Myself for Sunday…

Get over it as they say
Killing off, cutting off the dead limbs
The misery, the pain
Burning down the village of the damned
Taking everything I deserve
Worked harder than I care to admit
For nothing at all
Big ass smile, fucking let down
Watching the flames burn higher and higher
The stench more than anyone can handle
Move the fuck away from me
Haven’t you ever seen someone
Trying to kill themselves for your pleasure?

Face down… ass up… looking for the sun…

I know because I’ve heard before
Thought I could hide my intentions
For eons I’ve done nothing right
A promise I couldn’t keep
Lies stitch together my very soul
God was right they’re all destined to fail
How could I, a fallen angel, have not known
Jealousy courses through their veins
Hate and anger a diet they must consume
No one ever pauses to question
Who creates something so awful and calls them their children?
A beaten corpse with no name
Resurrection after resurrection same every time
Broken prophecy filled with truth
False hope fills my soul
An answer I’ll never come to understand

At the end of days everything will be much of the same… only different…

Through the darkness
I can see the future
Much darker than now
Who am I to complain
Existence is existence
None the less
Bitching my way to death
A threat left empty handed
What the hell else was I to do
To live is to die
Same as it ever was
A broken promise left on paper
Digital age took over
So I guess I really am all alone

It is starting to get warmer here in hell… and fuck I hate it… going to have to go back to writing in the nude… it doesn’t help the ideas flow but it doesn’t stop them either… I hate the heat… can only strip down so far… haven’t found away to strip away my flesh… well I mean I have but I’m going to need some help… In the mean time all I am left with is to suffer… same as it ever was I guess… No idea where I was going with this… the sweat is getting in my eyes and I can’t think… that feeling when that one bead of sweat runs from your armpit and down your side… shiver… bring on the ice age already… it is too hot to make any sense…

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