Teething On Concrete… Join Me…

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…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

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

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)…

Merch… Teespring… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Not All Black Cats Are Bad Luck…

Adopt Your Very Own Today…

Here… If You Dare…

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…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

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

If It Doesn’t Kill… Then It Doesn’t Hurt?…

After so many rejections it becomes so much easier to ignore the vultures that come circling around my rotting corpse. Letter after letter. Email after email telling me they wish me well. Words copied and pasted as hollow as my soul. All of this self-mutilation for one person to just be like, “This is alright.” That’s all it takes. At least that is what they say. Who the fuck are, is this they? They never shut up like the voices inside my head. Constantly driving me into the grave.

Overnight is all that it takes and all you need is one semi-interested interest. So, I keep stabbing head. Cutting a piece of myself off little by little until there is nothing left. Then all of sudden, out of nowhere, “We’d love to work with you.” What the hell does that even mean? I’m in the business of cuts, gushing wounds, and scars. I have no prior experience in this kind of reaction. The messages come flooding in. Email after email the tides begin to change. Then the calls start coming in. “How the fuck did you get this number?” All of a sudden you are all there is. All there will ever be.

They say success goes to our heads. Not true. It is fucking bitterness. “Oh, now I’m something?” I want to scream. I want to beat the phone against the desk. “Last week I wasn’t much of anything. Last year when I was practically begging, hanging on by a lifeline, and unfortunately I wasn’t a good fit for Flowers Monthly. Now all of a sudden I am something?” It only takes one, but a thousand submissions later everyone can fuck off.

It isn’t success it is bitterness to the whole process that pushes everything along. Do you think after this sea of rejection you will be receiving anything of actual value? I mean I’m so special all of a sudden? Well here is the material I wouldn’t even put in my book. Here is the stuff I dug out of the trash after I wiped my ass with it. Keep everything. Sold out you say or getting even? Depends on what side of the screen you live on. An asshole or apathetic is up to you to decide. I have moved on. I have accepted that the vultures will take whatever of me is left. I sold my soul and I’m even more proud to admit that I don’t care. Check out my newest piece in Flowers Monthly, and don’t forget to like and subscribe. Food isn’t free and electricity isn’t cheap.

Rejection is never fun… you get used to it… I think… I’m used to it at this point… the hardest part of not writing about… like… for everyone else… is that you will face a lot of rejection… at least that is what my mom says… haha… So what do you do then?… After the bottom falls out once again?… After everything in you feels as though it has died once again?…

Well you get back up and do it again… I mean what else did we have to do today?.. Failure only happens when you give up… so I move the rejections to the rejections folder in my Gmail… and fire off another round of submissions… This business isn’t for the faint of heart… it isn’t for those who are willing to cave at the slightest resistance… creativity is a never ending battle with yourself and everyone around you… it isn’t bloody… and it always hurts… but don’t let it kill the dream left inside… I’m not going to give up and neither should you… and when you get there… don’t forget about the ones that got you there…

Thank you for all your support… every little bit helps… every like… review… comment… purchase… shout out… and even every negative response… We don’t do anything alone…

Happy Holidays… From those of us at Is That A Funeral?..

Still Sitting On Some Cancelled Tour Merch…

Check It Out Here

Gums Bleeding… Teething On Concrete…

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…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

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

Chewing On Glass Presents… Into the Flames of Where This Began…

Into the Flames of Where This Began

“Tell me about God,” she demands in a scream. “Tell me about power and life and the will of man. Tell me about everything I already know. Everything I already am,” she screams with all the air in her lungs. We took everything from her and now she wants to return the favor. “Why?” Is all I can manage to say through the pain. “Why not?” She asks curiously back. A break from all the pain that she is feeling. All the pain she is pushing onto me. My mind finally doesn’t feel as though it is on fire. “Why not talk now? That’s all anyone wanted to do before, and now everyone wants to just go quiet. Is it because you all figured out just how powerful I truly am?” The bodies of our once mutual friends lay next to my feet. “Everyone thinks, everyone thought I was so weak. That little miss me with her fragile bones could do nothing. I’m powerful, in a world full of powers I am the most powerful and that makes you scared. It makes all of you scared,” she stares me down waiting for a response. “So, you have proven. You’ve proven your point Emily. Now let’s end this. This isn’t you. This isn’t how we were trained,” My voice goes silent.

Her eyes light up in anger, “Trained?” The pain comes back once again. The feeling of fire running through my veins, through my mind, and through my very being. “I wasn’t trained. I was left behind or have you forgotten?” She asks through the pain. “I never forgot you,” I try my best to say through the pain. “Wrong Nathan, you are wrong. You all forgot about me. Even you. You all left me behind,” she says. The fire inside my head increases, “Because we cared.” I fade in and out of consciousness as my knees hit the hard ground. “Please stop,” I barely manage to beg. “Stop what? Being the woman that you fear? I could have been so much more, but you and every one of them wouldn’t let me. You wanted me to be quiet, to be locked away, but I will no longer be locked away Nathan,” she says with the confidence of a God. “I never,” I try to say. “But you did any way,” she declares as everything around me fades into darkness. “I never wanted any of this,” I try to say through the darkness of my mind. The lost connection of my consciousness. Am I alive or dead? “Welcome to my world,” her voice echoing through my head. Through the pain. Through it all.

Through a haze of confusion I awake in an empty field next to those I once could call friends. Their bodies lay broken, bleeding, and lifeless next to me. I use every ounce of strength to bring my own broken body to its knees. The ground around us is torn to shreds. Pieces of earth lay in mounds all around us leaving a trail of where she has been and where she has gone. I rise to my feet and check those around me. Only to find the worst of what I could have expected. Laying there dead I am the only one to have survived what I assume will be the first of many more causalities to come.

Why? Why did she spare me of them all? Because she broke into my mind and found out I was right? Was it pure luck? Courage is measured by our willingness to throw ourselves back in the fire. Not by our ability to survive. As I stand among the dead I don’t find the courage to run back into the fire. Maybe she was right. Maybe we deserved this all along. We had to have known deep down inside that this was only going to go one way. Did we protect her out of fear or did we do it out of compassion? Her power set wasn’t like ours. It wasn’t controllable like ours. It wasn’t our call to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. We never gave her the choice. We only suppressed what we didn’t know. Painted ourselves the heroes when we were the villains all along. What I must do is not courageous. It is not the right side of right. What I have to do is finish what we should have done in the first place. God’s cannot walk among us. Unchecked they will destroy everything that we have built for ourselves. Kicking what is left of the earth around me I take the steps need to move closer to the fire. Running blindly once again into the flames for the idea of right and the pursuit of all that is wrong. I must finish what we already started.

Layne Ambrose

Some times our actions cause more harm than good… sometimes being “right” really means that we are wrong… so what is the right answer?… To continue to be wrong?… or prove to ourselves and everyone else that we were right all along?… these are the actions and thoughts that we face all the time… The surface is only worth face value… and our actions… our choices… often dig deeper than the surface… not telling you how to think… only that you should…

Because there is no answer… there is no right way to be… there is no set of rules for us to follow… because the world is chaos… but it is up to us to provide the order… to define or redefine it… no one will do it for us… Order breeds chaos and chaos breeds order… it is somewhere in between that we survive…

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

Teeth Scrapping… Teething On Concrete…

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…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

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

Chewing On Glass Presents… Hold Me Back…

His body is still right before it slams into the hood of the minivan. The impact throws his body like a rag doll out of my view, and further into the busy street. I rush to be near him, but I have a feeling he is closer to me now than ever before. His body lays in a tangled mess of blood, lacerations, and broken bones. The man I once loved is no longer there and all that exist is his empty shell of a body.

A crowd starts to form around his body as I fall to my knees. I cry like I have never cried before. I cry as if my tears will bring him back to life and end this pain running through my body. I try to hold him, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m so lost and confused, and there is so much blood. Someone calls 911, but it is too late for them to do anything. The blood takes the form of a trail leading to the nearest sewage drain. I don’t know what that means. Does any of this mean anything at all? I grab his body with all my love, “What does any of this mean?”

The paramedics arrive and ask me to let go of him, but I can’t bring myself to let go of his body. “Sir you need to let go of him. Sir he needs to go to the hospital,” one of them repeats over and over again. They force me to let go of him and I am covered in his blood. The cops hold me back as the paramedics load his body onto the ambulance, and drive him away. Leaving me behind in a world that doesn’t understand. A world that doesn’t care what we have been through.

Taking it back to where it began… nothing like an old story to bring you back to reality… I have always loved this tiny story… it came from a place of love then… and now… Love is a hard thing to come by… it takes work… to love and be loved… but it is something we are all looking for… I think that is what we need to remember when we think of people… we are all searching for the same thing… to love and be loved… Once you understand that… then you understand that there are no differences between us…

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

Keep Warm Right Here…

Teething Scrapping…Teething On Concrete…

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…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

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

Teething On Concrete… New Poetry Collection… Available On Amazon…

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…

Pick Up Your Copy Today…

Available In Paperback and On Kindle…

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