I'm Sitting Here And Swallowing My Own Blood

Anger, Rage, Disgust, Disappointment, Bitterness, Sadness, Helplessness, Torment, Tortured, Hate....

These words should never be used to describes one's parent....never...ever; yet I use them with disregard and fury. Righteous fury I know not; but oh, they hurt me so much. Their barbs of poison, so laden with the toxicity of insinuation that bleeds me dry. They crucify more blindly then the Jews that so send Jesus to Calgary. I hate to be an ingrate, but I can barely keep count of the times they have broken my heart with their words, their self righteous manisfestations. They make me feel so worthless, so dirty, so useless... I love them yet I try so hard to hate them. I constantly on the brink of a blade. Why do they have to pin my wings and de-gut me in the name of "making" me a better person? Waste me, Waste ME, WASTE ME!

I scream inside yet all I hear is the guttural sound of a choking and wet drowning coming from my slit throat, its slits spills the crimson wetness of my will onto this shirt of sheer white that is my life. My parents hold this knife, this private privilege of slitting my throat and draining my wrist. They say its for my own good, deafened by their slef righteousness, deadened by the blindness of their ignorance.
I see myself, this bleeding, gasping, drowning man on my broken and bloodied knees at the foot of my parents and all they can say is that I'm dirtying the proverbial shoes of their life. I'm bleeding and dying inside and all they can do is watch and judge against me. How can I say I love them? I do, but with a shame and no self-worth. The blood, my blood is on your fucking hands.
I was a son, I tried to love, I hoped to be loved. Its all ashen now, I'm all ashes now

Cracks All Over My Undersized Heart

Fingernails wrapped thick with cloth, shattered memories, a clock spins
A lonesome wanting, a guilty love, a wronged disintegrated husk of a man;
Crumbling and shattering as a thousand bombs implode obscenely onto my sins,
Crackling and collapsing, locking and jarring my trachea; These ticks, parasites
Scratch at them, burn my skin and hair, the scent of incense,
Digging out chunks of my insanity; Clawing away at my scalp
I Hate to love, I love to hate love
It comes Crashing at me, tearing my flesh with a thousand private knife parties;
I hate you my love screams blindly at me,
These wings seared into shards of frozen glass'
Forever frozen into time
You make a smoked image of me, me, my love and I

The Personal Thorn Of My Heart

Hey there gentle readers,
Smoking Gun,
Having Fun,
In the Sun,

I am One
You are None

haha..
Anyways that was to warm me up in a preachy in your face manner, a new design?! I wonder about thee! Its been weird I tell you. I've never ever been so humbled in my life.
The sting of the moment actually beggars human belief. A thousand years of fucking tradition evolves to make me, a person of the male gender incapable of self-affirmation. A bleeding shame I tell you.

The really sad thing is that We( Men) do it so blatantly, and fucking pray to God that it appears subtle and demure. In reality this crumble and corruption of personal ideals; I truly believe is an in-built female vendetta, a conspiracy of an entire gender that spans for nearly an eternity and an eternity to come.

Their feelers of emotion draw us so temptingly close to oblivion that we are addicted to that thrill of a near destruction. A siren call,( some say booty call) ; The medusa, the hydra, the chimaera, all fucking fucked to produce females... But oh, woe are we, the weaker race; the bastardisation of our existence.

but....Laugh out loud dudes....

we love them!

I've chosen to be a traitor.....have you?

The Fire Inside, My Fire Inside

Hey,
Its been awhile my dark sombre friend, Oh wait! Not really, you've always been whispering into my ear. Sigh! Well my apologies to anyone who reads the ramblings of a heretic. Its been awhile as stated earlier. Nothings really improved, more funerals, more tears and even more lies. There however has been a change recently, I seem to have come into terms with my deepest darkest fear of failure. I however doubt that this acceptance is for real. It came onto me too easily, too conveniently. Without a fight, without a thrashing or even a stab in the neck. Parental frowns are getting rare. Is this a sign? I dare not hope...

Wanting to start my life, my adult life but i've been paralysed by this cramps of reality and the gaping maw of society. It nibbles at my psyche like the wet rot that comes with the rain and winter. Its smashing effects tears my flesh from my bones....its a subtle smashing..

Its falling down, but I'm comforted by the knowledge of inherent destruction
Its a surety, The comfort of the inevitable
How can we fear death?
It feels Oh, so so very good

Guns or Gum.... I made my choice, next!