Category Archives: 6. The Dying Days.

pullin skin like a burn victim cuz the pain makes it real but the aftermath is like looking for the next cruel twist in a book that you wrote with your vanity. never enough, feed your face, when their is … Continue reading →

i sat behind a young man and a younger lady while they discussed the next step of their existence. he was ready to move his mom was in his face stuttering his groove she was right behind him cuz her … Continue reading →

I often sit under the hot sun with a cold beer and a hairy bear watching passing planes and butterflies fly by. and i wonder if what i’m doing is beautiful or sad. and I usually ask aloud to no … Continue reading →

in the corner of the wall a cobweb lived no spider seen for years and years yet that cobweb stood trapped alive the things that died in the corner of the wall where we used to live.

i feel the death inside my stomach traveling up my spine can taste the venom in my esophagus and the pressure on my side somethings punching me within pressing hard on my chest breaks my mothers heart every time i … Continue reading →

the book is open as she gives birth my head in light awake this is real the book i thumb through good times bad times a brother and another we swing in the summer sled in the winter hold each … Continue reading →

robot vomit spitting out venomous junk like fred sanford never died at this typewriter constantly running away with the words that sound the same no matter the mood about broken hearts and broken whores and broken beer bottles all smashed … Continue reading →

last days of you know who everyday seems like a fight between me and the world where i punch first even if it’s still asleep afraid of not fitting in afraid of becoming irrevelant in my own skin punching when … Continue reading →

who are you groaning for what are you groaning for die if you wanna die don’t live for the sake of living grumbling is useless it means nothing live if you wanna live don’t live for the sake of living … Continue reading →

drier then the sahara desert not a tear in sight burial of a legend they say no one noticed the missle headed west on independence day legend is a word used loosely in this day hit a ball far run … Continue reading →