Category: About Anything

It doesn’t help that you’re a callously ignorant,
self-centered bigot
suckling at the teat of your faithful idiocy.
Don’t judge me like you know;
you’re far too blind to see
the deeper meaning in my faceted quality.
I can taste the scent of your condescending attitude,
cleaved to your self like a woman’s perfume.
Your accomplishments are nothing, gray hair,
and your past a haggard elder
dogging you around
and begging for the scraps of your filthy memory.
You don’t understand the path
from whence I fled.
Call yourself a professional, then,
but the notion is truly laughable
in comparison to the true makers
of this metallic world.
Your inability to truly care for
the temporary charges
placed in your farce of an office
says enough about your character
for me to write a novel
with you as the main focus.

Here’s a thought for you, sir:
Have you ever taken a moment away
from your constant assumption
of my retardation
just to contemplate…

… that I might have a reason?

inspiration has abandoned me.
my sweet-tongued muses,
alabaster skin and pearly eyes
with hands to kill and blunt teeth to chew
upon the entrails of their written victims;
so perfect in their beauty, and yet
so wasted in their repulsive etiquette...
they have torn my mind asunder
and fled into the fluorescence of night,
dancing as though they were heathen children,
wild and careless in the midst of their euphoria.
what cancerous sores have they yet left
upon my frail, incomplete existence?
they have burned away the forests of my thought
and left me naked and eyeless in the desert.
their taunts and suggestions reach my ears,
but the noise is only gibberish now.
the fruits of my imagination remain, but they taste
as though they are ash, filthy and unfulfilling.
all that i reach for, all who i try to draw close to me
leave me with a blizzard in my heart
that chills me to the very marrow of my bone.
hungry, i cry out forr reprieve
but this voice is not my own.
no, my inspiration has abandoned me
and in its place, there is nothing but memory left.
i can't live like this.

Little Bird

“Little bird, little bird, where have you gone?”

Out into the forests where I might dream on.

“Little bird, in your dreams, where will you go?”

Out into the night, where wishes hang low.

“Little bird, little bird, what will you see?”

The desires of children, prey to sword’s wicked sheen.

“Little bird, in mortals’ hand, what will occur?”

My song will be claimed by eternal slumber.

“Little bird, little bird, what of the rest?”

They’ll climb to the heavens, discover my nest.

“Little bird, far from home… What will they find?”

The last strands of Hope untouched by mankind.

Scream in my face
just one
and I will
your smiling eyes,
turn them back around
so you can see yourself
for who you really are.

You’re nothing but
a filthy dog
licking the scraps
of blood and grime
out from your
lying bitch’s diseased maw.

Go on,
go back and cower
beneath her bed.
It’s the best
you can do,
craven fool.
Just close your eyes
and count to ten,
listen to
as a conflagration
of insults
leaps from her tongue,
lashing against
my battered skin
in some taunting attempt

And even then
it’s hilarious
that you think
I will break so easily
beneath the pressure
of this abuse.


You can’t end what you’ve started.
You can’t end what you’ve
You can’t end what
You can’t end
You can’t





(But go ahead
and try.
I won’t feel sorry
for the decimated
of your
accursed husk.) 

Who I Am – Take Two

You want to know me.

You want to understand
what hides behind that
timid smile,
a rosy blush
and faded eyes.

It is not so simple as
pale flesh
and full lips,
and modesty
wrapped up in innocence
and a silk knot.

Some have said
that the sun itself
chases after me
in curious desire.
They have told me what they see:
solar energy
twining about my throat.
Embracing me.
The sun greedily sucks me dry
like the vampire
I was supposed to be.

Some have whispered
that I carry
within my heart
the blessing of night.
Starlight curls about my wrists
and the moon pulses
within my veins,
informing me of
that sweet
set out for me

I am a menace
to their orderly lives
and the bindings
that hold their hopes

Yet still…
Awe and terror
within the voices of the masses
as they shriek,
“Ruin her,
burn her,
drown her,
kill her.”

You stand aside from them,
You embrace a moment
of chaos
if only to hear
my sorry ramblings;
venom crushed
into your wounds
and the cure between my teeth.

You stand here,
but with me.

A single child
with an army of creatures,
imaginary or otherwise,
at her beck and call.

You say you want to know me
but you don’t even
know yourself,
dear boy.

You say you want to help me
but what you don’t see
is that it’s my hands
crushing the life
from your lungs.

You say I am not a mystery to you.
You are a terrible liar.
You do not know me.

You do not hear
the heartbeat
of the earth
you trample underfoot.

You do not see
the rhythms,
cycles and patterns
of life.

You do not feel
these thunderous prophecies
clattering within
your mind.

You do not utter
madness and warnings,
hoping to reveal
this sweet deception.

You do not taste
blood meant for another’s pain
as you take another
bullet to your soul.

You do not fathom
this innocence,
so full of sunshine
and storm clouds
waiting to release the flood.

As the waves crash down
upon you
and those who dared to drag me down,
you will see me only
as what I could be.

And as an ocean of tears
and memories
drag you beneath the flow–
as you beat against the current,
I will ensure that
who I am
will remain
forever and utterly

“Release me again; release me from my cage…”

My eyes are ablaze
with a whirlwind of fury
that you’ve brought
upon me.

 Do you mean
to bury me
all this pain and rage?

Shortness of breath,
a flash of red in sight,
black at the corners
of my vision.

My muscles
remain heavy, weighted down
with the wrath
of millions.

My heart beats-
beating, beating-
the sound of war drums;
setting aside my withered, quivering, stifled remorse.

Help me?
I never asked for it.
Save me?
Save yourself.

I am not your friend.
I am not your savior.
I am not your love.
I am not your light.
I am not your god.
I am not  yours.

It pressures me
to turn against you;
to rip that

worthless heart
from its cage.


I have you!
Your life
is within my grasp.
Just one more step

One more shove

And your breath will cease–
for me

 … No. Just as suddenly
as it began,

that monstrous creature
gives way
to a child’s tears.

did I do
to deserve
your hate…?”

Just because
not looking
you doesn’t
I’m not
Some things
too hard

The woods were made for the hunter of dreams, the brooks for fishers of songs.
When two worlds meet, one of solidity and the other of dust, that is when reality and imaginary bleed together.

Child of the moon, you were born on a journey.
As protector of mankind, you fled the laws of the true cycle, seeking loopholes and ways around the inevitable.
Your existence seemed near to end, as the Final Truth came to your spirit’s doorstep.
The grim shadow of a falcon nestled deep in the forest spared your life.
Through a bond that none fully understand, you have borrowed the glittering sands from Time’s hourglass.
You have known peace, cruelty, hope and despair, but you have yet to know kindness.

Rememberer – You have been Chosen for something that cannot be taken back.
It is only through you that this moon child continues to exist.
The All has heard you through her; The Overmind will not forget.
But cease to believe and she shall cease to be.