I am so awoken

I’m broken

Pondering the empathy

That leads to sociopathy

Dwelling in the thoughts

Of the damage I cause

Of carnage to come

The carnal lusts

In those you trust

Does not give pause

I dive into the abyss

Looking for all that I miss

Looking for all I can remember

Here in this long December

A cold month for a cold heart

A long night

For darkness is my light

It guides me

Allows me to see

The path of the gray

In the brightest of days


Another day, Another Shooting, Keeping America Great

Another mass killing, Another white guy on a mass killing spree. People sending their thoughts and prayers. FACE IT people if GOD cared , he ignored their prayers.  This is what our country has become. We’re all to blame for the state it’s in. Welcome to America, where just as likely to die on your knees as on your feet.

Five will get you ten that some dip shit televangelist will claim its GOD will. While others will go on the 2nd amendment defensive. Don’t take my assault rifle from me. Or better yet rattle off how if the people at the church had been armed they’d be alive.


Disappearing ink

Sleep the little death

Brief glimpses of peace

Power naps to recharge the soul

As empathy takes a toll

The state of the world confusing

A bomb that’s not diffusing


I exist in the past

Dwelling in the future

While surviving the present

Ever scheming of ways

To become whole

In the dreaming of a soul


Forgotten memories

That recall tragedies

Are all that fuel the heart

In creating the dissolving art

So much…So little

Not much to say

Not much to do

That’s not true

So much to say

So much to do

Yet my tongue I bite

And I waste away the day into the night


I see no end in sight

Nor know the reason why

I distract myself

Another post

Another joke

Anything to escape my ghost

And the feeling of being broke

I have no tears to cry

For they fell long ago


And the world around would never know

The pain that resides in the heart of the heartless


Metaphysically Speaking

I do not exist

Nothing more than a failed clone

Of a second hand copy

Who’s authors plagiarist

Notes were written hasty and sloppy

For they lack the spark of life

As well as the its meaning

The most important of information

That surely would be my salvation

Instead I find my days dreaming

And my nights waking

To the thoughts of what is missing

From the inherit code of my genes

To create such a monster as I