Poems written by me

These are the new ideas for POEMS, and then SHORT STORIES, that will go into Epidemic ;



Poems ; By;  Jessica Singleton


Without reason

Liars give out forks in the road.
Fallen Angels go straight to hell.
Money is printed on paper.
and 
Your wife plays with paper dolls.
It really is to bad that you think you 
want to be the asshole handing out second chances.
You really are not one to judge anyone.
and its not like the rights that you have were earned
with anything besides paper dolls.
I never noticed before how pathetic I come off. Not in my own mind. 
In yours. But you don't know shit. 
I cannot deal with anymore of this pain.
I cannot seem to be able to watch someone else dying.
Not after what this war has done.
As angry as I am, as much as it still hurts.
You'd think that the normal responce to this is revenge.
That is the logical answer, but its not mine.
It is not that I do not care about what you did.
I do not understand you.
but I'm going through something now, and it makes it hard to want this.
You'll take advantage of it.
Only to get away with more.
The thing is, if you don't get outta my face and stop,
then I'm going to kick your skiny ass.







People want to hear all about it now.
Don't give up now. 
You've got everyone's attention in your right hand.
You know how to throw people around the way you throw dirty looks at anyone you don't know.
Someone who didn't know you today would think that you know everyone in the world.
A look like that is personal.
Not for you.  They have to prove themselves worthy of your approval.
It is sad that someone like you ended up in a place where anyone answers to you.
God be with the sad soul who is sent into your office.
You would probably have your own grandmother crawling at your feet.
But these things will come back to you.
One of these days and you'll be alone.
No one will be there to help you.
Without anyone to step on to get around and you will just sit in the floor and you'll throw a hissy fit.



White Trash

He leaves his shit everywhere except on himself. That is so everyone else can kick it around. He'll need a hand job for pooping on your day. And everyone knows its for show He is all about intentions these days.  The way he shakes his shit around you'd think he worked a thousand days without pay.  There is nothing like watching him move his opinion around a room.  Its a masquerade for the blind. No one can smell the junk hes left behind. He is looking for his next excuse. I've got no money to buy my way out. I've got my name on a list. Those who do not participate get bags of rotting candy and a lethal perscription.  I'm laying on the floor in my own piss. While this insanity is painted up beside me. This is not on pay per view. We're a lot like you. 




Bad Day old Joe 
He had a silver shiny in his pocket 
AND he has a mouthful of yesterday to tell everyone about.
Poor bastard sits in AA every week with the same sad song.
No one is there to care.
They've come so the POs don't put them back where they came from
Everyone is eating the cookies and no one gains weight.
Shut the Fuck up bill has two kids and wife.
He will tell everyone to shut up
but he never opens up.
so it looks like he don't care.
He does care.
He cares so much that it hurts to listen.
so he blocks it all out.
They punish him.
That is not progress.
Billy boy is at the back of the line tonight.
and when he goes back in to his cell,
He'll get the letter and the word from the cop who brought him in.
He should have been there. He could have saved them all.
Cause while he was in his cell,
someone killed his wife and kids.
He will not be able to go to the funeral.
He has two more weeks.
But since he is not there and there were no plans set in order,
Then his family will be creamed.
He'll never see them again.
Cause they need you to sit up and talk.
if you follow the program then you can stay in life's arms.
Otherwise you miss out.
They do not want Billy boy to have pictures of his family.
The state has plans to cover it all up.
Yes sir mother fucker.
SO he can hope to hold onto his memories.



Well and Fair

They stand looking out their safe picture window at all the folded people.  They don't have to care until normal business hours.  Even then that dirty word has them crawling at their four walls.  White Trash is a stinky word today.  It is 29 degrees outside and its pouring rain.  It is 8:54 AM.  But they don't have to deal with the children in the street until 9 AM. Not until they have to.  Hand outs come with a price.  Punching a clock till five PM is the pits. Even at 8:59 AM the workers just stand there.  You'd think that they got stooped on paper air plane instructions. Fallen alter boys are not dirty old men. They should not be made to feel like they did something wrong just because life sucker punched him.  You'd think the person with the lack of tact would be the one looking at their feet for blaming other people for the insanity that society pushes on people. His government wanted to cut budgets ten years ago because they could not do first grade math when they spent the tax payers money.  Lay offs come cheap to those who don't know.  Now no one wants what he has. He has no other choice but to ask for help.  That or he'll starve in the street. The way they hold their nose, you'd think they wanted to see a town hanging at the innocents expense.



Enob Ijuga

I have a forest on my head.
It stands as a door to a realm that I've locked away.
I walk through the white pumpkin patch.
and I listen to the trees talk amoungst themselves.
They whisper secrets.
They tell your lies.
I know most of them by heart.
I just do not let the pain show through.
It glimmers behind what is damned.
I have no release.
It seems that I am lost.
No bread crumbs to lead me through.
So I refuse to give you the right,
that you've already stolen away.
Suffer well,
You will not have any rights here again.
This time I will scream.
This time I will let the gates of hell open their arms to you.
and I will let you die by your own foolish hand.
Your so wrong when you're right.
But even when you fall down, you always stand back up.
What is deleterious to others, is funny how insane it makes you look.
You just keep attempting the same thing that did not work before.
You only tare down your own world.

Release Me,
I do not deserve to carry you. It is not my fault what you did. By holding me down, you only prevaricate everything that will release me. It is a bourdon on everyone around you.  You only lean on the back door.  What kind of person could turn another out. You know that cord, cause you play it well. You run everyone down with all of your clamorous mess.  Look at you standing there like that. The sad thing is that you do not care. What is worse is that you don't care what this does to everyone else. FUCK OFF


Deleterious 

You have a way with leaving before the light can reflect on you. It is funny how all the strings and cords wind back to where you were sitting.  And you're not sorry until it suits you.  They don't know yet. No one does. That you're the one to blame for what everyone else is going through. You just wanted to be a part of something so someone would have a reason to talk to you. Yet here you are and after all the bs that you've caused, and all he people that you've shamed... Still no one is talking to you. How pathetic. You honestly thought that if you kicked someone else around that it'd impress anyone. 


Open Door

You got enough cocain to blow through a day.
You're like the sound of a shot gun in a church during a Sunday prayer.
This house feels like a witch trial.
These walls hold your secrets.
I am the only one stronger enough to admit that truth.
I'm just not insane to stick around for another round of your deleterious asylum.
Tell them all your sad story.
Just wipe that dumb grin off that fat face of yours when you blame everyone for what you did.
Oh don't worry. 
Not about me, I'm just the woman that you'll forget.
I'm always off and five minutes to late.
I lose track of time, and this is old.
I am basically not going to fit into whatever it is that you want.
I don't want your mold. It makes me sick. I cannot stand you.
So you really are wasting your own time.
That is probably because without lies and bullshit, you just would have anything to do but chain smoke 
and piss on your own legs.
Your opinion to me, 
Means about as much, as a maxi pad.






Immutable Fall

He dresses slowly these days.
My sky is turning into folded dreams.
The world is a water color set of 
bronze and red kingdoms.
There is nothing that I can say.
He cannot see me tonight.
The leaves fall in love at the first kiss.
They are withered hands that applaud the fall 
as they descrate into the great nothing.
I keep you in front of my temper.
Because I cannot know what I've done to you.
I'm begging you again to hold back what you deserve to scream.
Your silence pulls me down inside.
It makes it real that you are not standing next to me.
I would say that I am sorry but I can't.
Not if my actions are going to make me feel like this.
It is a barbed wire fence that holds me back.
It is two inches tall.
Its my own pride.
I'm to lazy to step over myself.
and I'm held back by my own guilt.
I swear for whatever it is worth now. 
I would never hurt you.



Crimson Lullaby

Shame makes us look at our feet.
We look at everything but each other.
I will change.
I will promise you anything.
I'll swear and I'll promise
This is so taboo.
Can you feel me fall apart around you.
I feel so innocent and so guilty when I'm with you.
Tell me you'll stay
and I'll leave out my darkness.
Maybe I'll try to keep you this time.
I am the son of a criminal.
I am the death that decays.
and darling I'm yours if you letme.
Watching you smile parts the sky.
Tell me I have not lost you.
I swear I'm not a bastard.
I am the lost child of nothing.
And you are safe with me.
I'll kiss it all away.
I will place you in a crimson lullaby.
Nothing will harm you while I'm away.
Stay with me, just for tonight.
and you will see.
I really do love you.




Candle light

You have the most beautiful face.
I'm afraid to look into your eyes 
for long periods of time.
I feel like I'm not good enough.
I am afraid that your curl away.
You will shatter.
You feel like a wish.
It is only my luck that you will melt before I wake up.
Tiny spark
There you are...
I have not built a wall yet.
I cannot keep my feet from falling out from under me
Not if I see you.
I'll fall again if you smile.
Until the day you finally break me.
I've folded up these feelings for you years.
I've kept them in an envelope.
You have the face of a nephilim. 
You've lost your way,
cause you're not here with me.
I can't forget that easy.
Not the way you can.
So I'm just stuck here waiting on the day you finally care.
I feel like the wick of a candle.
I know it can only last for so long.
But I'm lit and I'm drowning in a sea of wax.
Do not make your wish tonight.
Don't blow.
Please let me be with you,
if not for tomorrow.






Aug

She was wearing one of his shirts again.
He was not home.
The day old paper work sat on the bed
His name written in ink might ignite his goodbye
But with a few more drinks, she'll have her husband back.
The projector was propped up on the dresser.
The faces of once upon a time were displayed on the bedroom wall.
Anything to keep him home.
Somewhere he never belonged.
But laughter is the regret in the alone hours and tomorrow is past the point.
So tonight is all she has.
He sat in his hotel room alone.
The woman that just left did not take as long as the one he slept with last night.
He wanted freedom and now freedom is all he has.
The woman at home that he left was not supposed to linger.
But with a few more drinks from the mini frig, 
He'll have the one thing that he cannot get back.
Cause laughter is the regret in the alone hours and tomorrow is past the point
So tonight is all he has.
She knows this song.
Its a dance we all do.
You play along with whats wrong in the world.
You smile and you take it in.
Hold back what you really want to scream.
Cause this can't be so.
Its not your falt.
But theres not a damn thing that you can do about it.
And the more you fight it,
The more it will win and it will tare you down.
Cause laughter is the regret in the alone hours and tomorrow is past the point.
So tonight is all you have left.


Catoptrophobia

I have cat eyeballs on the tips of my fingers.
I painted them on with green and navy.
Everything here is so delicate.
It only reflects through the eye of a needle.
You cannot blink or your miss it all.
You can't hold your breath or you'll miss out.
You gotta take it in.
No matter how scared you are of letting it in.
Don't push.
It is just a matter of time before one of us gets hurt.
Everyone outside has translusant ears.
Deaf until their own opinion has entered the room.
I am so lucky that I am not on that list
and that you all have walked through my door.
Translated on rusted wires.
I am sharp when I am open.
You're not a toy to me.
Should I say that I'm sorry now.
Maybe it'd save us both the time.
I'm just not worth what I once was.
Your eyes reflect all the guilt that I've hidden.



Pearl Harbor

Souls made of pearls.
Lost in sea shells, and canon balls.
The beaches of Asian shore lines 
explode from behind his eyes.
I'm the genocide that channels 
what cannot be healed. 
Great walls that tower with his every word. 
Trust so fragile. 
I am only guilty of taring down my own friend.



Blue Popsicle

Painted Novicane.
He is wrapped in a blue rubber tonight.
He is taking every other girl but me on a sky ride.
Up and up far away.
He will rush to your head and 
He'll rush to your heart.
No time at all to addict you to his smile.
He'll knock you off your feet.
I'm so amazed until it takes him no time at all
to break my heart.
Then I hurt so bad, that I cannot get off the floor.
Lets all spin out of control.
Its my new hobby.
I feel like fling a kite.
Although I have to keep him in my pocket.
No one can know about our love.
What is usually left of me in the morning,
my mommy will have to pick up off the floor.
I will feel heavy and used.
I run back to him all the time.
Every time I feel the itch
Someday when I wake up...
I will realize that I wasted half my life 
on a fronzen treat that 
I cannot even remember how to forget.
But didn't you know.
If I do not enjoy him now.
Then he will melt into some other girl.
and I will not have him at all.






Slut

Your contagious when you're around. I'm the antidot and you'll drain me before you leave. Over and over I'll fall and you'll never get enough of coming around to sell this to me again. You love me so much but all you do is hurt me. I wish you'd stay but I wish you let me get over you.



Quarter

She sat there in the puddle.  
They left her there.
No one cared when she screamed.
The swinging door only throws dirty looks.
Sticky plastic floors in the trailer park.
The man with the baggie must be out of quarters.
The way he makes his way around with his ghost.
He made a handful of money tonight.
Fat ugly bastard probably doesn't even know,
That just cause he can push his way in the back door.
Like a wolf looking for what you owe, doesn't mean it 
was good for you too.
There is a lot of fat dogs in the world.
They all have a bill for you to pay.
Most of them want you to pay a bill that never existed.
Or they got it in their pocket that you can pay someone elses bill.
It will leave you with a quarter shy of a dollar upstairs
when the fat old man is done.
And the prescription like any other, will make it's round when the body has a month to understand it.
Trick for a quarter, treat for what the insurance won't cover.

Oblong Substance Abuse

You are not a woman, until you've been raped by the hands of society.
They'll stand you in a line.
They will tell you how ugly you are.
Just to shove you down where you belong.
Until the day they tell you how pretty that you made yourself look.
That is why you deserve every bruise.
No one wants to hear about something that has already happened.
So keep it to yourself.
It is a bastard of a job.
And
That bastard will break your back.
Just stick your conscience up you ass.
And you should know they'll beat you black and blue.
Until you learn to say thank you.
Cause you need to be greatful.
You need to know your place.
You have no right to cry.
The only reason a baby has the right to cry,
is because a baby has not learned to shut up yet.
Humiliate yourself while you're down their on the floor.
Anger is your substance abuse. 
Point at the mirror and tell it you love it.
You got a problem lady. It is time that you understand your substance abuse problem.
It is time that you get therapy for your ghost.


Widow

Everything that she has lost, is crawling out from under her skirt.
It is on the floor.
She'll invade everything but her own nightmare.
Giving birth to what they all regret.
They'll never tell and she will never let herself know.
She will not deal with anything that no one knows.
Not when it burns like this.
They don't have any tact.
Everyone wants to know
JUST so they can have a reason to look at their feet.
She is so pathetic for bring it up.
Its not an award show.
They don't see and no one cares.
But like a train wreck and bad reality TV,
They cannot look away.
There she goes again.
Down another drain.
She'll fly high tonight.
She'll take you in,
for one last bite.


Black Sheep in the family

I'm not awake when everyone wants to tell me how they feel.
I'm good enough to clean the toilet.
I'm good enough to listen to what everyone else has to say.
Yeah man I need to know my place and I need to listen up.
Cause I'm trash when it comes to you.
When it comes down to it,
And your hypocritacal opinion changes 
like a bipolar whore I went to high school with.
I guess whatever would give you another reason to hear your tired opinion.
But I've got a little black dress in the back of my history closet.
So I'm a fat old black woman and thats too many shadows for you.
No one wants to get that dirt on their hands.
No one but the people who are dark enough to show up.
Cause I'm not black enough for them.
Everyone can tell me that I owe them something. 
God knows they are all due for a pay check.
It seems that I'm the boss man on Fridays and Sundays.
Although I'm not allowed to say it out loud.
Not that I'm a black sheep.
Not that I'm white.
Not that I'm a Jew.
Cause that would embarrass everyone.
I'm an orphan.
And the sad thing is that I'm not up for adoption.
I'm an adult and you're the one bring it up everyday.
The whites want to beat me up for being a Jewish Black 
and
The blacks want to beat me for my white skin
but the 
Jews want to ignore the fact that we are the same.





Honey colored flower

I remember you from every other memory.
Just not the ones where I last saw you.
My mind cannot let go and at the same time...
My mind will not accept this.
Can you hear me where you are?
I feel so lost, I cannot hear mysef anymore.
I know it is not my fault.
But I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry.
In my mind you're seven years old and you're scared.
Cause you're sitting on your first roller coster.
I cannot fix this for you.
I just wanted you know that I have not forgot.
Not you, not this and not what it did to us.
They have posioned me and they have raped me blind.
and they've beat me silly. I'm laughing at my own ghost sister.
My mind is starting to give out.
I have lost hope to see the end of this problem.
I have lost my train of thought.
I cannot remember where my keys are half the time.
but
I remember June 18th and June 19th of 2011.
I remember a Blake poem.
I remember the smell of grandma's purfume.
I remember the name of everything that ever made us laugh.
There was not much.
And for some reason, I cannot remember how to let go.
I also cannot forget how to let go of the pain.
It lingers.
They don't desere this on their shoulders.
They did not do this.
Not all of them.
I will never forget you.
and 
I love you.
How could I not,
cause after all 
You will always be my little sister.



Father's Day-
The day they brought you in to the hospital room,
the sunlight was so illuminating that it almost eclisped you.
I could not see your face, when they wheeled you in.
I had to stand up just to get a good look at you.
You were never there when it mattered.
So I had all these images of what you might look like
going through my head.
I wanted to tell you about me.
I did until it caught in my throat.
It is odd, because you feel like a stranger to me.
I felt like you had not earned the right yet.
I cannot explain how I felt.
It was as though you should be forced to apologize for 
not being a dad. 
For walking out like I was an appointment that had ended.
I am sorry that I called you here at this time.
It is just that I found out today that I have six months to live.
No more then another year.
There is only so much technology can do for me.
It is odd how you find yourself with a list.
Things that you should try before you go.
I had some books that I wanted.
I wanted to see a real circus.
and for some reason, I wanted to know who my real dad was.
I guess it does not matter now.
Not that it ever did to you.
You were never there.
Probably off at some circus.
Anyway I guess I love you.
I don't understand how.
I do not know you at all.
The good news is that you can walk out again.
This time you do not have to feel bad.
Because this is all the time that I have left.





Something is smudged on this page but there is no sign of why.
I don't know when I'm awake or when I'm asleep.
I just wonder around myself anymore.
Life is unfair.
and I really don't deal with it when I'm crawling around inside.
Someone is holding the stitches to my open wounds.
Cause my humilliaion just ooozed all over the floor in front of all 
those people that I do not know.
I would say that there is nothing worse then some asshole pointing
at all my problems but the pain- The lost memories...
Why that is.... could beat my humiliation by a mile.
Anything is better then pissing your own pants in front of the whole world.
Like you don't care. Just because I do not care what people think about 
me does not mean that I don't give a shit. No I just can't drink it away
 and I can't deal with all this pain.
There is a line behind me.... and it leads right to you.


White Virgin

Cloudless sky parted by a blue gold sun. 
Endless journey caessed with the hands of time.
Nothing  left to open the arms to a white virgin.
Like a back door stranger in the night. The tiny king
was born to unleash the stars to a black moon.
The tiny little person held so dear, will be the biggest impact 
upon the world.  He'll teach them how to forgive and the 
world will slaughter the tiny child for it.



Flock

I sit in my corner. 
It is late into the night.
 Hope must have wings. Because its taken flight.
 So far above me that I cannot see.
 Sometimes when the day is closing in around me like this. 
I cannot help but want to give up.
 You seem to be there. 
God is my sheperd.
 He leads and he follows me. 
I can feel the tears burning me.
 They rush out from behnd my past. 
I cannot think straight. 
 when I'm upset like this.
 my mind doesn't seem to forget 
how to crash my head till I'm stuck looking at my feet. 
 You God always know when to save me.
 You parent me.  
You are always there to catch me. 
and you make sure that I'm safe.
 Thank you for not giving up on me. 
I'm sure you must have something else 
that you'd want to do. 
Cause you must spend all your time on me 
 it feels like I'm alwys in need. 
The pain anymore is to much.
 I do not know how strong you are God. 
But you take all the pain away from me. 
I am grateful. So thank you.



Command

I'm lost inside my own thoughts again. 
Comen to even inside
I cannot believe that you know who I am.
I'd expect you to turn away.
I'm not going to stand up and act like I'm important.
I still have nothing to say.
I just wanted you to know.
That whatever my loss or my pain,
I won't deny your command.
I'm honored and
I'm not ashamed.
I guess I do not 
have to tell you God
What the world has done to me.
Well you give me strength.
And I manage to get through everyday
even when my bones are to weak to stand on their own.
Cause time flies by and here I am...
another day has come and gone.



Cocoon

Father forgive me as I bow my head tonight. 
The weight of the world has incubated itself upon my shoulders.
I cannot bare it much longer.
My back feels like a rusted brass stairwell.
I don't think I could bend down to pray even if I wanted. 
So I'll just bow my head as I stand in my corner. 
My head must feel like a hammer as it 
crashes into the palms of your hands heavenly father.
I am sorry God.
God I am so sorry.
I am so alone and I'm all out of time.
I'm all out of strength.
I cannot do this on my own.
Not anymore.
It takes so much...
to not give up.
I do not know that it would matter.
But you make me feel safe as you cocoon me like a child.
You heal what the world has done to me.
You stay by my side until this pain subsides.
Don't leave me now.
I am afraid.
Well father,
The world has closed her ears...
and the world only punishes me for her own guilt.
I've become a target to anyone who needs a fresh start.
I've fallen out of unopened windows by the hands of the blind.
They have no idea what kind of door that they are opening to themselves.
Well, my Lord, I am cornered in an oubliet until I agree to .
No one wants to hear my protest.
Because no wants to open their eyes to what this is.
So please father, hear my silent prayer.
This room feels like a witch trial.
and no one will lead me through this.
Father you are my oxygen.
I have no room in my head for me.
No room for time.
I wear myself out.
You father are my only release.
You are the only strength that I find to breathe.
I lose sight of the point to try.
You make me feel alive.
I do not know how to thank you enough.
Cause I'm nothing.
Life orphaned me.
I have no where to put all my rage.
You father are my freedom.


The Burning Heavens

The sky lights up mermaid and sapphire velvet. 
When its not the color of brains and cordoroy. 
a sea of navy opening its eyes at the flutter of wings.
 The storms they rage wakes the old man from his dream.
 The old man's groan. 
The thunder drum in the sky.
 He rolls onto the chamber floor 
as the nights symphany echoes through the sky. 
His fingers stain the pallet as he finger paints the turquoise night. 
Mother can hear the sound.
 Innocence is a child. 
Something will drown out the child's cry. 
Mother forgive them.
 Mother forgive me. 
They've made us all a bastard. 
They have desecrated your sight. 
I cannot hide my pain in glass bottles. 
The bottle does not offer forgiveness 
and the lid will not contain secrets 
We are all held by chance
and mother, none of us are children anymore.



The God Of Jesse

The pain slithers down the back of my head
and the pain tingles my spin.
I feel like a puppet in it's embrace.
I'm stained and I'm curling up on the inside.
I could not feel more helpless and alone.
I do not have directions to where I have fallen to.
But God finds me.
I'm surprised that his hands could untangle this web.
But I feel so free that I could fly.
I feel alive and I feel free.
Then the strangers come back and I know this will not end well.
I can feel the destitute hopless fear seep in from behind yesterday. 
And God never sleeps
 and I'm blessed be a child of God. 
Because he never makes me an orpan 
when I'm pushed through this vain insanity. 
I love God and 
there is no one like the God of Jacob.



Paper Airplane instructions

The paper dolls are blind folded and they are handed remotes controls.
The paper dolls are fed lies before they are pushed into a mine field.
The tiny dolls will now control everyone else.
They have no clue at all.
The paper dolls raise their hands to the sky like kites.
Lets all go fly a fucking kite.
and they smile into the sun.
Now hush little smile.
Don't let mommy hear you cry.
Those whoosey sounds are paper airplanes.
Spin around and dance.
Please push your remote buttons.
The motors sizzle as they fall from the sky to land in the hands of the prey.
The tiny folded people wave their hands to the sky.
They can't wait for the gift that the sky has to offer.
Bombs fall into their hands.
as the ground reaches up to grab them as they blow up.
Like watching a child's game of tug-a-war.



Window Faucet

The view in her mind only showcased a store room display window.
Everything within reach, is only on a shelf.
Just above your head.
A cat went into a garden to buffet upon a bird bath.
The devil sat in his high chair
The devil keeps laxitives and butterscotch in his purse.
The devil keeps his remote in front of his store.
Pushing all the buttons all at once.
Complete chaos. 
And the devil laughed as he watched all the smiles fall upside down.
Memories stain the face and leave the pallet in direct lines and scars
The mind is a leaky faucet.
Paranoia is the drip that runs to the outlet on the wall.
And the window is dead bolted and the window is wide open.
Time falls backwards and time has eclipsed.
Shadow puppets fill his head.
He waits until they have just enough rope to move around.
Then he strangles the puppets with their own ropes.
Only to watch them die by their own hands.
It is not suicide here.
It is  the seventh level of hell.
and everything is played through his death watch projector.
He loves his toys.
chaos and pills for all the good lil boys.




Rites at your finger tips

You've got everyone elses rites at your finer prints.
You'll leave a trail and it'll lead you all off your own cliff.
It is bad enough that you see nothing wrong with screwing up 
your own life, but now you're screwing up everyone else's life
along with your own.  Thats okay, it wont take you long
You'll have a new excuse in less time then it took you
to push everyone else's buttons.
I'm not allowed to embarass everyone tongiht by letting them know how much they have belittled me or how they make me feel molded and sick. That would only give them an excuse to blame me for their faults and their insecurities. They'd tell me I need self esteem.  That I don't know what it takes to make you happy. I'm sure I'll never know cause all you is remind me of what a mistake I am.


The Celebrity Charity,

Plastic wooden wheel, smoke screen puppet show. Easy after party favors. Taxidermy pockets bested and bestowed upon the people of the church.  They smile through blind eyes as they thank the church.

Secret
It is under my own eyelids mother.
Father drinks it all away.
I can feel it just under my skin.
I just can't do anything about it.
It's rebirth will awake me in time.
I fear something that I cannot remember.
I can't wake up.
I can't sleep.
It hurts.
My throat is locked up in the past.
I know I'm screaming inside.
I can feel it but noting comes out of me when I open my eyes.
It will burn my corner and when its done with me. 
The wind will cradle my ashes away.
And I will be what it wants me to be.
The secret of agony and the 
forgotten reminder of their mistakes.
Does it feel like this?
Do you even know?
Like the air you need just to breathe.
Taken and held over your head.
You can see it.
but they'll never let you have it.
My rights -
The justice that I deserve...
is held under my own nose.
As I am binded and blind folded.
And you so delicate and cherished.
You do not even understand how to want it.
Cause you do not want anything that I could have.
I'm a reason to forget.
I'm out of place and I do ot know how off key 
that I sound cause I keep singing.
How pathetic how much you need me to shut up. 
So you can cover up the freedom that you stole.


White Butterfly-

It is nothing to the naked eye. 
It is a moment that is past the point.
I'm the only one who cares because its too late.
It is just white noise.
Everyone is still waking.
They have not come to yet.
And you have no idea yet that you have no rights here. 
And I just fly away. I curl back.
I wish I felt as safe as I did when I was in my cocoon.
But that home is lost to me.
I'm pulling at my own walls, and 
I'm screaming from the inside of myself.
I'm alone here. 
I'm crawling on the floor.
This rage heats my back.
I just lay there.
I need to get off of the floor.
but I can't move on.
Something burst from my back.
Its not my pain.
There are no pretty feathers.
Powder and storms to the touch.
The pieces that morph from me 
look just like stained glass windows.
Eyes to the door knobs of my soul.
and you'd think that you 'd had enough.
But there you go taring the wings off of butterflies.
Who gave you the right to play god?
I have nothing left.
I'd swear that I would fly away.
But then your ground breaks my fall.
and I'm on the floor again.
My tears cloud my view.
They melt what you've done into a soupy mess on my pillow.
Before I can stop them.
My eyelashes take flight.
I fly away to anywhere but here. There is no reality when
 I get away from this.


Red Balloon

The burning sky is sheading crimson lies.
The sky makes table tops of the innocents foreheads. Ash wednesday table cloth. Satanism forced upon the weak.

Death is Violet
That jester is whispering children's lullabies.
Something has your hands behind your back.
Something is waking.
Somebodies hands are to blame.
And it is not me.
Death is a cold blooded mother tonight.
Mother forgive the bastard that I've become.
Cause you scold violence and you wind it's gears 
with the same hand job.
Death is painted gold tonight.
Illuminating the sea in the sky.
Death is marching and ready.
Death has taken flight.
And Death is on it's way.


Night
Night sat down to pay me a visit.
My unkind undertaker.
My intentions run short.
And it is mine alone.
This pain I bare.
No one can speak of this.
Night's arms are locked doors.
My windows are blind tonight.










Helium

      Dearest Mother,

It haunts me only at night mother.  I was praying the night that I shot myself in the head. I want you to know that I did not give up hope.  Not until the very end.  But mother you were not there and I am a grown man.  The pain...  The pain was too much.  I couldn't hold the bottle any longer.  My wrist gave out.  All I had was my trigger finger.  I gave into the want.  Now I am free.  I love you.
Yours even in death,

Tellous Aaron Buyermaz


There is a man standing in a window.  He is over looking the view that over looks his front yard.  When he looks outside there are children without faces flying kites in his front yard.  The childrens hands are webbed together like they are not fully formed.  The children have fetus features to their bodies.
That is when Kyle realized that he was the old man that was looking out of the window. Kyle turned back into himself.  He found himself walking toward the door.  It was a bedroom. It must be. Because the door led out into a hallway. He felt so controled. In any normal situation this would not happen. What was this?  It did not occure. It was beyond him. This must be around the time of day that he would be getting off work. If it was a weekend, then why was he home. This was super bowl weekend. He had five friends and their wives who were having a party down at the pub. Nothing was adding up. This house is not mine.  What is this?
Kyle walked down a hallway in an older home. The wall paper was tacky and funny at the same time. It was something that his wife Susan would point out to him. Not that Susan would want bad wall paper from the 1950's that looked like an eye sore to where's waldo.  No Susan was into antiques and fashion. Everything from art to interior design. Then kyle noticed the door at the end of the hallway. It was slightly opened. He walked toward it  in a trans state of mind. 
When Kyle got into the room, there was an old baby crib. It was clearly older then the nineteen fifties. It was an antique. This must be a joke. That or he'd wake up in no time at all. That is when he saw the photo album and the old rottery dial phone. This house or the people who lived in it were at least from this century if they had a working phone.  Without thinking he opened the photo album. It was filled with vintage photos. Just not antique.  Then he saw the birth certificate.  There was something wrong about this. It felt like an under taste. Something in this house. Maybe not the house but Kyle could not put his finger on it. 
Sometimes when you are eating and someone is watching you. You get a sixth sense to you. It is like you know that someone is near. Even if they are in your blind spot.  Kyle had a sinking feeling that he was being watched. To the point of the air in the room being so thick that he could almost feel someone touching him.  Turning slightly to his left, Kyle looked over his shoulder.  That is when he saw the small child.  The child's features were not fully formed.  It was a ten year old version of a fetus.  Kyle gulped in a throat full of air and he almost choaked on his own spit.
"Oh, my... mmmuuuummm I am so sorry.  Do you live here? I ... I can go.  I swear, I just walked in. I did not take anything."
The child was holding a red balloon that was tied to a string.  The balloon was floating. It must have been filled with Helium. 
The child made a sound that sounded like a cry.  Then Kyle realized that the hissing cry shreaking sound had come from the balloon.  The Balloon was leaking air slowly. Kyle looked up and there was an old woman standing on the ceiling. So she was upside down to the point that she could hold the balloon. That is when Kyle woke up from his nightmare.
Susan was sleeping soundly in bed. Kyles side of the bed was soaked in cold sweat. He got up without waking his wife.  He moved to the hallway bathroom and he pissed a river.  Then he headed to the kitchen. He opened the shelf door and he pulled out a juice glass. He just needed a sip of something. His throat was so dry. It felt like he had been screaming all night long. That sounded silly. If he had been yelling, surely Susan would have awoken to the sound.
The juice glass had a cartoon character on it.  Kyle filled it half full of tap water and then when he was done drinking, he headed back to bed. Once in the  bedroom, Kyle noticed that it was one hour before he was to wake up anyway. No sense in going back to bed for an hour. It would probably take that long to fall back asleep. 
Kyle took a shower and he got ready for work. Then he left early with the newspaper in hand.  He stopped at a coffee shop on the way to work for breakfast. He had time to enjoy his paper with his coffee and muffin.
When he got to his office, he had a meeting. He stopped in his office for his files... When Kyle entered the room the meeting was to take place in, there was a smell to the air.  It was faint and had just the slightest hint of gas.  But it was not gas. What was that smell? When the suits came into the room, Kyle began talking. As he looked up everyone had red balloons as heads on their shoulders.
That is when Kyle woke up for the second time. He sat up in bed and before he could turn to look at the clock his alarm clock went off and scared the shit out of him. It was loud and he was not thinking to expect it.
Once the morning events had ran their course, Kyle got into his car and he turned on the radio. The radio station was set to a late 1960's early 1970's music station. The song of choice for the ride to work was "STRANGE DAYS" by The Doors.  It had the best sound to it. When Kyle got to work, everything went back to normal. Life was there to move forward and not into the Twilight Zone.
Five O'Clock came as fast as the day flew by.  Kyle worked at an accounting firm. His job was to reformat what the company could do to help clients over see wasted cost and to help them make more out of their own dollar. His job