the degenerative properties of the human mind
seem to be accelerated in mine
and only worsen with time,
until the day i shy and die away
and sublime
from whatever wine
cursed this stupid rhyme..
and i'm
happily hellthy until then.

stitch.

why, oh why do we have to die for what we believe in..
why can't we just live in what we hold dear.
why must you kill for what you believe in..
destroy me out of fear that i'm different from you..

countless people have died for what they believe in, when that shouldn't have been the case in the first place.

why does it bother you that i wrap my head, or bear a crucifix.

to you these are just stains for which i should be ashamed, but who are you to tell me what of my tattoos.
more than stains, the ink on me is synonymous with blood within me. with no shame, i endured the pain to shadow on the outside what's in my veins just so i could be closer to what i believe in. you see a mess, but i see transcendence the likes of which your hateful stitches can't sew shut or hold back anymore..

why can't you see that this "stain" is a part of me, why am i ostracized for the perma-tears running still down from my eyes, why can't you just shut up and accept me, because your god knows i would accept you.

i'm no different from you, i'm still human, i have beliefs too, so who are you to tell me mine hold no truth

stains..

to you these are just stains.
for which i should be ashamed, but who are you to tell me what of my tattoos..

dementia praecox.

i'm tired of being the good guy.. so what
i am so tired of being a sweetheart too.
why should i deny my animal insides..
i wanna be a wild thing too..

So your sick of being the good guy huh?
what the hell does that mean?
You're just as sane, you have arteries and veins,
you're just as human as you seem..

no.. i'm not, i'm different, you've noticed surely
that i'm not as human as they can be,
i plead and beg, i have a tail and four legs..
clearly i am a wild thing..

Listen to yourself, you are a boy..
you stand upright just like they..
You haven't a tale, nor a furry tail
and you've been sane all your days..
but it seems as if you're wasting away..
You are human, boy, not a monster
no matter how badly you want to be.
They're human, so are you, they've humanity and you do too,
you're just a human without me..
..but with me you can finally be free..

i know, and i see you everyday in me
but i don't know how it's done,
i cry and i pray, that you'd come and you'd stay,
she shouldn't have all the fun,
..i too want to see things undone..
she tells me it's not so great, that i'd hate it
but i love the way her mind works, so of course i don't believe..
because i know that with you, i too can see through
dementions.. and all of reality..
with you i know i can see through..

Boy.. you don't want me.. but i want you,
you have a perfect mind..
You're sharp and cunning, and devilish and funny..
and you're giving up on your kind..
..and you're losing your mind..
Perfect..

so here i am, envying the dead and the damned
waiting for you to come through..
..dementia.. where are you..

...

Look behind you..

cavities. (study..)

here he lies, with fire and sorrow in his eyes
waiting for it to pass,
but what he doesn't know, is that it won't go
away, its haunting his ass..
he lies awake half asleep, in cold disappointment and agony
and his body shakes,
as tremors rock his spine.. he looks at the time,
its too late for him to be awake..

...

why he continues to think and to sink,
no one knows,
but he does anyway, and despite them, he will stay,
for what.. no one knows..
he continues to reflect, and ultimately dejects
himself.. he fades away..
the sorrow is almost unbearable, but tomorrow will be arable
to sew the seeds of a new day..

...

finally it gets the best of him, and he gathers the rest of him
and carries himself to bed,
but the little monster caries in his teeth, they're still growing and they still eat
away at his breath and breadth.
he's right about one thing, that everyone and everyone can see
except he and she..
that despite his teeth stained with words both sour and sweet, they can see.. everyone can see
for whom his heart beats..

...

the best thing to happen to him in a long time, and it's about time,
beats in his chest well..
and with the monsters gone, he can find and sit by that pond
and open his eyes once shelled..
it is now, after writing, and it is how, after writing
he is finally aware
of all the rain on their bright days and all the pain in light's way
in which he was ensnared

...

cancerous cysts over his eyes, he missed that which he needs in his life,
but falling isn't so bad,
for in falling birds learn to live on a wing, and in love falling is amazing,
in love, falling isn't so bad..
now he can see that falling isn't so bad.

dumb dog. [all dogs go to heaven]

as the wolf waits, so hungry and lonely, he bays to the moon, "if only if only"
~dumb dog, you make us look bad..

3:00..
What was that... ears up, eyes alert, he's standing now.. since when was I standing, wasn't I just laying down half a second ago? And now I'm at the door? It's 3:00 now, she should be getting here soon. Oh boy oh boy can't wait, can't wait. They're gonna have so much fun. It's gonna be the most fun date. Even better than yesterday. Strolling through the park, meeting new friends and visiting familiar places that hold familiar scents and familiar sights, and familiar memories - memories that only her and I could share. He hopes they go by that place - oh I hope we do - I'll drag her if I have to - that place where she first kissed him on his nose, and I couldn't help but to kiss her back, that place where she first wrapped her arms around his neck so tightly and said she'd love him forever. I cant believe I've waited this long it seems like forever..

footsteps ~ thump....... thump..... thump... thump.
heartbeats ~ thump thump thump thump
stops.......
his synced up syncopated heartbeat ceases along with her step
as she stops at the door,
holding within his chest his first breath,
as his waiting ends forevermore..

he hears the keys keeping his breath in tight
and he prays that she'd take no longer
to open the door and give him first sight
of she, but he could be no wronger..

keys jingle and find the lock
they jangle as they caress the tumblers,
and he sitting, in his plans taking stock,
while his heart in his chest slumbers,
awaiting lights first glance to lumber
forth out of him withal; to cease a number existence

..then, before his heartbeat's end, when his heart's keys end, and before his heartbeat ends -
the door opens..

"heyy", the girl speaks, and she speaks with a voice that scorched the sky and shakes his world. That shuffles the mundane rigmarole of running in circles looking for the perfect whole to bury lies that just lie anyway, from chasing things that I'll never ever catch but can't help but to dream big anyway.. and it's a good thing too, my attention span isn't that impressive.
But when she speaks he pays attention like no other, as if her words determine the very outcome of the end of his world he lingers..
On the touch of her fingers on his neck and awaits her beck and call, the heck with all everything else he gives up on the world when she comes around and now he's hoping..
That she can somehow surmise that past his deep orange eyes he's devised the perfect day for them, one in which they're are imbued with each other, but demise..
Is all that's in store for him, but maybe she'll ask for more of him, he's hoping that she'll ask for more from him today..

Yes yes yesyesyesyes, your back, finally your home, oh how I've missed you. I've been going crazy in here by myself without you, thinking of what to do, and how to keep from tearing this place apart, and thinking of you, like cats think about fishes, like washers think about dishes, and tongues think about dishes.. like the sun thinks about the noon where wolves think about the moon, I've been thinking about you.. my moon.

"Did you miss me, - you have no idea how so - so sweet".
"Heyy wait, let me get in the house before I'm yours. Come on now, take it easy I'm here, - yeah your here, now we're here, now lets "there" lets go! - I know you missed me all day, and you probably want to spend some time together, ­­­­- again you have no idea, you're my moon, and I'm your night, and night is just an empty dark anomaly without its moon - but I'm not gonna stay long, I'm going out again soon.. sorry," - ok we're leaving soon, alright awesome, she's going that means we're going out...

he sits and waits for her to change, and he's changing
from moods unpredicted to sentiments forlorn,
from happily young forever in his plans to aging,
slowly decrepit and time-worn

it sinks in, what she meant, what she said
about her leaving out soon.
finally it sinks in that joy illimited,
that he, nor she, nor they were meant to be this afternoon

standing 13 inches on 7 feet,
orange eyes like flowers and fire
his massive heart skips a beat
and he suffers now the dire
consequences of hoping higher
and baying nigher his so called wholly moon

try as you may, you dumb mongrel,
you're not going with, and yet so you bay
to your so called moon, or so called scoundrel
despite whatever she may say,
but, haha, one word you obey
although two feet above hers your head may stay
you sit and just roll over when she may say, "stay"

zombie..

"..and lo the beast looked upon the face of beauty, and beauty scathed his hand..and from that day forward he was as one dead.."

i am the damned,
i am the dead,
i am the agony inside the dying head..
this is injustice,
woe unto thee,
i pray this punishment will have mercy on me..
save me from this disease.. ennie..<3
~
i should be damned,
for this i dread,
because like the beast we are as one dead..
but descend unto us,
both halves of me,
begetting our ending and setting our cold heart free..
please save me from this ending.. jammie..<3

..dead men tell no tales.. but look at me, i'm freaking singing. singing along with a ringing in my ears the same as the beat to which falls all tears..

i was tired of being in a whole mess of fading life, devoid of light, so hear my plight. i stand now to fight that what has plagued me, so save me and raise me from a daisy covered field, because any place without you is deathly..

my tombstone should read, "here lies a stupid man.." because only stupid men lie, and by the by as i've died so too have my old habits rotting inside, turns out they don't die so hard after all. and by the way, i've come back to stay and say all that what should have been said like, "sorry i missed our day, i was dead.." but i rise up from the ground sound and safe now because around me i see only deadbeats, most with two feet still but not a will nor a leg to stand on.. you're my legs.

months ago, when the year was cold, as we know before i died, i lived a lie, so i buried a promise that someday, in some weird way i'd feel alive again, and only again to gain a knowing from the pain, and to go showing again what i became from that growing promise grain, and it's a shame.. that it took me so many months to realize that these veins ran dry in vain, and i died for no reason. it's really silly, for here i am rising from a grave that was hollowed for me in order to save me from myself. i've been stuck in a hallowed hole, for the sake of divinity, with me for what seems like an eternity.. and that's a long time all by me onesie.. so at last i decided to be free.. one hand through i raise myself up and with two hands i get my head unstuck and now i see that next to me are the lilies you've been sending me for months.. you didn't know i'd be back so everyday you came back and sat next to me to keep me company. and to who's surprise would your cries harmonize with my sighs and give rise to my beat. it's no shocker that remorse would, of course, inevitably raise me from the locker and empower me to live and be once more.

getting up is the hardest part though.. breaking the bond of which i've grown so fond was almost beyond whatever unearthly endeavour i was clever as spit to come up with. you see i was so accustomed to just laying, and staying in one spot for so long, and it was comfy; quiet and stuffy, but still quite comfy. but as i thought about my resolve, i found myself coming to betray it as i emaciated, thinking i may see a bit brighter of a day if i escaped this place, and so i did. and now, i take my first breath in too many months..

i breathe -and i breathe deep- the cool night air and i can't help but to think that a sense of macabre is there and it seeps, as i breathe deep, that this macabre i'm feeling is the odd sense of living filled with graveyard till inside me and a need to scoff those lying aloft in their dirt so soft until i cough because this breath is kind of hard.. my cough is brazen and up comes shriveled lungs like raisins, dried and tethered together by wilted bronchi. i pop them back inside me and they go inside scuffing me but coincide and i bluffly rise with a dead front side and literally half a mind to stride again straight and true.. straight to you.. but i can't do that for i am dead.. zombies don't walk through crowded streets

picking up your lilies that smell like you, they smell of hell too, but only because i haven't washed my dead hands yet.. since they're covered in spiders' traps i'll do just that. i'll wash my hands of this place.. oh but if only if only, if only i could erase away the dead faces and complacent smiles; smiles that wasted away from faded faces over the years and became jeered with sorrow waiting for their tomorrow that never dawned. and beyond hell you were my tomorrow, and like the moon i rise when the day ends for my own ends to amend that what i've done.. like the dusk and dawn i'm just a spawn of something betwixt not quite there and almost.. more alive than some, but still deader than most.. the light of the moon grants me glances of a chance to make it up, but it shows me for what i really am.. an abomination walking through a quite nation.. the tombstones here border a personification and have an eerie sense of persuasion just for the occasion that one such as me should be free from this macabre. but this second life is of love, i've been born again of adoration as love's enation, contingent to hearts half started in buried chests and the treasures of lovers' passed.. but the moonlight is too quite a sight behind the thicke shrouds of clouds, glowing proudly to welcome me back to this life, and i just wave a broken hand happily and shoot a senile smile while i stride with my own pious pride; things don't come back.. and i'm living proof to the contrary of that. against long odds i came back.. slightly wary with an internal sack of maggots and baby butterflies i'm back.. with nicks and knacks in my face from this place and eternal cracks on my back from a lack of a precipitate.. but worse than these are the cracks within me through which i bleed dust puffs from a heart that's rusted up.. but i should suck it up because i'm back, right.. *sigh* now that i think of it i was quite fit being lower than shit in a pit with broken hips underneath wreaths of reaping daisies.. at least then i was useful. but now look at me, and what i've become; walking undone with rotted teeth sheathed in decayed enamel that taint words otherwise sweet.. a contradiction to which the conviction of death wasn't consistent; now i'm on a mission of forlorn descent to achieve divine consent to remain prevalent; because i'm too persistent to stay slayed, and for your sake this breath i do take to have and to hold, but why else would i be so bold to raise my cold face and tell tales dead men shouldn't have told in the first place.. it doesn't seem that just you would be enough for me to do that..

you see, all are for the main frame of things, but i guess i wanted to change things; rearrange the schemes in my dead head but it seems i'm just as the rest of them.. and this shitty self-pity comes with an aridity drying out my already dying skin, dehumidifying what's within and evaporating all but sin and again i come to face humbly the boundary of my entity.. why was i revived after i'd died to come and live undone among a bright moon unsetting too soon, and a haze of daisies. lamenting this, i keep breathing wisps because all that comes out of me is dust. and around me are the pushed up daisies made healthy by us, and the scene is just the prettiest thing, it would take my breath away if i had it in the first place; these flowers sing happily because we feed them rottedly under the ground and the sound they make is so beautiful.. a slight ringing is all one would hear just standing here but in the decrepit ear there is such a luster here listening to the sound all around from every wreath as they reap the life from those who give it willingly; they sing nattily while they glean life-blood and it seems egregious that they'd tease us without rue; living from us, once living too.

and i come back to you, and your lilies, to which the daisies lack credulity and can't be compared.. even though my senses fail and have faded i still feel cold, and i can still smell you on these lilies.. the lilies allow me to partially keep what i've come back to seek, oh but to see how shrilly the smell forceably retreats inside my nosey.. i should just take it off; this meek dried up creek cannot keep trying to run, dry and empty, and this is killing me, hehe, so i'd rather put my nose in my pocket than have the scent and lock it in my olfactory socket.. but with the scent stuck in my head running its course, it rocks it back and forth, and back with a lovely attack on the back of my fractured head.. and it spins as i begin to breathe again and i wish it could all end again, because living like i am, for a second time, isn't fine if i can't find myself next to you.. what the fuck am i supposed to do with another life if i can't make it better than the first one, there's no point in a fate undone if it's only won me something even worse than the hearse. being stuck in this horrid place with my morbid face is too much to bare. i'm so bored of this fate, i want to live and take place amongst you in the fresher air, because here it smells like dead-daisies.. i thought i didn't care for living anymore, because what's done is done for us; we lay peacefully, soundly, and eternally asleep, serenity, may death keep for us all, except for me being undead and all; living a reality in which death is merely a dream withal.

while i was lying in my hole i was lying to myself saying that i wouldn't miss it. that this is the best path for both of us to have that what we should've had. life for you, and for me whatever is on the other end of the life curve that i deserve. but i had the nerve to reverse the chorus and of course sit up again even though it was ended. to try again to be once more what i was before, but the score was settled, and i can't beat it when it's that high. when my number was up i was counted out and mounted about a stone not with but a few words. personal sentiments to my laments because i went too far and my heart has the scar to prove it. i always had a gut feeling that i'd be reeling into this arsenic hole, i was burning myself alive every time i sighed about how things were, when i should have enjoyed them while they lasted. now every reminder of you it seems is nothing but a rueful piece disrupting an otherwise eternal sleep.. now instead of sleeping i'm stuck dry-weeping as dust comes seeping from under my eyes, and i want to cry but my tear ducts were shut up around the sixth month. i want to find a way to cope with having no hope but it's difficult to know that there is none when every time there was always at least one; one chance, one time, one way you would find a way to say that it was okay, and that i was forgiven.. but given my current living i'm sitting here wishing that i didn't go away in the first place.. and i don't know why i am being like this.. it hurts to wish that this could be undone like me because for me i had too many chances. too many days have passed away like we have, decrepit and time-worn, that i spent unhappy for no reason and now in the coldest of life's seasons there's a self treason against me, i'm hating me. i'm hating all the wasting away that i was doing even before i was dead, something going on in my head that told me to be ready to see the cold end but i never wanted to let go of something so golden. i am an idiot, a now dead idiot.. and i suck..

sucking pavement i'm stuck paying life rent in this god forsaken rend in life's bend hoping that the pain will end but it won't. against my usual wont i try to cry but my leathery eyes have been dry ever since sometime in July, and it's easier to be angry. not just angry with you, but angry with me too because there were a lot of things i needed to do but never did and i hid away that what should've been yours way back in the day, in last year's october.. in this blue october a homecoming would've been something but nothing would have compared to the air around you there on that night.. but two outta three ain't bad, and i relish the time and two we had, but i'm still mad that i let go of life so easily. sure i came back, but as a worm snack and there's a crack in my empty hourglass. i'm constantly losing time that isn't even there anymore.. and it sucks.

with the moon half ominous and half illustrious by my dead side i slip a smile contrived by twisted muscles.

it's been over a month now and i still can't let go of what i used to know, i don't know what's wrong with me. it's funny because i believed that these lilies meant something, but nothing can compare to the despair i've been feeling ever since i began this existence.. i can understand why you haven't come back in so long.. constantly waiting for something that was taking too long. even though my eyes are fogged i can see clearly why you wouldn't pick me.. i wouldn't pick me.

i've heard the moon, and to me it told, "oh deadened kin, my sorrow for you runs deep and true within my porcelain skin.. and i lament you, deplorable you, my morbid, zombie friend." and since then, my deadened, sinned skin is no warmer,and in the corner of my chest my breath still feels cold blowing past an appropriate mold within the folds of hanging flesh; my heart feels torn and time-worn, a frozen testament to times old.. because my time has too long been too old, and my lovely opportunity passed gracefully, unlike me.. oh, despicable me.

gumheart.

malleable..
changeable, re-nameable,
expendable and re-bendable
such that it cannot become undone;
stuck in his chest, warm as the sun,
it cannot break, for it is made of gum.

asunder.

Lo and behold this, remorse..
Low he beholds one of his greatest blunders,
Twice, even after, he stayed his course,
Tears tore her eyes asunder
and like thunderous
cries her eyes
shouted horrendously
back at me..

storm.

silent..
a silent storm tearing through my mind
destroying everything inside
to the soothing ring of piano strings..
in the eyes of this storm,
as i stare, i am torn,
between malevolent grace and lovely undertaking..