(sorry if theres any repeats of poems guys)

Leaking Ink


I forgot how to etch
images into paper
into thoughts
into minds.


and everything I've written lately has been
bland

like canned vegetables
that were boiled
and overcooked.


And everything switches subjects
like when someone
flips a lightswitch.


I just write down the babble
that comes out of my head.


My hearts pounding
and the beats overrun
everything that was
important to
me.


You've stolen something
thats part of me
a thought process
making an image from
words
to make a picture.


No matter how much paint
I splatter onto my small
canvas
and no matter how much color
I pour into it


my heart will always leak
black ink
and stain it.


I'm tasting bitter failure
and everything I write.




The Tale of The Guitar God


The guitar god
Played a nighty tune on hig trusty guitar,
and held the pic lovingly as he struck the strings.


Heavier then anything
Eddie Van Halen
could ever play
and higher pitched then anything
Steve Vai and his tongue licking guitar
could ever hear of
and More mourning and Depressing then
anything Adrian Vandeberg could ever
imagine,
The guitar god was almighty.


But he also adored any
musical instrument that could keep a beat
like drums,
keyboards,
and those funky little mouthpieces
that make those weird sounds,
The guitar god,
he loved music.


But there was one thing he lacked,
(it wasn't compassion- no, he was compsassionite about music
and no it was not love- he loved music)
it was company,
he wanted someone to share his love of music with.


So one day,
he traveled to earth
to hold a contest,
the winner would become his wife,
and the people lined up
tuning their guitars
hoping for a chance
to live with the guitar god.


People were sent away
one after the other
shame stricken faces,
they failed in front of the guitar god.


He was losing his hope,
there was no one else in the line
except a small woman in the way back
tuning her guitar by ear
which he found a talent in the world
because so many people used electric tuners.


She started playing
and he though it was the most beautiful sound
he had ever heard coming from
a guitar played by a woman,
she won the contest and
a few weeks later they were married.


They moved to Las Vegas and loved music
and played music ever since.


The end.





Slither (lies etched in Moonstone)


You slither
words etched in echoes
whispers hung in darkness

And I fall blind
laying in the rain
to wash these thoughts


out of mind.


I dont know
why
I hear
things
that you cant
imagine
seeing.


Colors whisp
around in clouds
of music
and guitar chords
ooze from
burn wounds

but all I see
are black and white
grey dreams at night.


"I'll smash right through your spotlight"


If only those words rang true
but I still see you
slither
lies etched in moonstone.


You just slither.


**words in Quotations taken from the song She Builds Quick Machines by Velvet Revolver. and I dunno why I
wrote it, it just came to mind.**



The Wrong Side of Town

So you think you’re a sly fella
with nice looking hair
and those “don’t mess with me abs”
wearing ripped tee-shirts and cut up pants
with that “I don’t want to be here.....
You make me sick, so stop fucking with me”
face expression,
that tough street kid attitude
that gets you in trouble with the police.


Yeah, so you think you’re so smart
and good looking
hitting on girls at the movies
driving your beat up chevy
(fords are for pansies)
drinking shots of who knows what
and talking dirty
dirty filthy words
that somehow make the “tough” girls giggle.


So you were picked on in elementary
you toughened up and became the bully
and the little preps flinched when you walked near
but when you were out of ear-shot
they called you the nastiest names
filthy dirty names,
about you, your friends, your home,
your side of town
the poor dirty side of town
that none of the “preps”
wanted to go to,
they were afraid
afraid of getting their clothes dirty,
afraid of being ganged up upon
like they did to people smaller then their selves
by dirty filthy street punks,
like you, like everyone else there.


You dropped out of school at sixteen
to be on the streets
and work on cars at the local gas station
maybe hit on a few girls in your spare time
smoke a drag on your breaks
maybe get into a rumble with the preps at night.


Driving down the street in your beat up chevy
drinking a Pepsi
downing it in 2 gulps like it was the last thing
you were gonna drink,
racing the other kids
listening to the braggers (fucking preps)
boast about their car
and some snobbish prep goes up to you
points to his car
and says “your car is a piece of shit you loser!
My car could beat your’s any day”
before spitting in your face
and then on the hood of your car.


Living on the wrong side of town can be a bad thing
even good grades won’t stop you from your fate
living on the streets, on the wrong side of town
where the white trash live
where the losers live
where the greasers live
where the criminals and delinquents live
where anything that’s not popular or made of money live.

You walk on the streets
switchblade knife in your pocket
looking behind every shadow, jumping at certain sounds
grabbing that switchblade knife
you swiped from the local hardware store
almost looking for a fight,
maybe jumping some prep on your territory
or in your way
maybe because they looked at you wrong.


Talking to this good looking girl
at the movies on a Friday night
maybe, just maybe you’ll get lucky tonight,
then a hand is on your shoulder
grabbing at your shoulder
and clawing at your shoulder,
you get jumped by 4 preps
because you were hitting on someone’s girlfriend
and you wrapped your arm around her.


Walking home with a bloody nose maybe its broken
walking to your damned cursed home
face straight, blood flowing, anger rising
other punk friends following you
getting angry as well,
your like their family
a pack if you must call it
if someone fucks with one of them
a rumble breaks out,
being bombarded with questions
who done it?
What they look like?
Did you get the broad?
How many preps were there?


Looking at the ground
feeling hatred and pain, can’t look up
your mind is full of shame.


You look in your pocket
and you find your switchblade knife is missing,
then you remember
you remember
you lost it while struggling
under those arms,
trying to kill you
holding a blade to your neck
and threatening to stab you to death.


You turn 18 and get put in the slammer
and when your out
your as hard as nails
you are not better off then the preps in the end,
they are not better off then you.

At least you saw life, what life is
all the hardships you have, all the challenges
what it is like to survive on the streets,
those preps
the jocks, the rich kids,
they were sheltered all their life,
they don’t know how to survive,
you do.


Yeah, so you think your sly
a sly fella
a tough fella
riding in your beat up chevy
long hair, ripped shirts
bad boy image
talking dirty, filthy
and all the “tough” girls look your way
heart break and heart ache
its all the same
on this side of town.




Bad Additude Shuffle


Bad Additude Shuffle





You waltz on into the place
with a bad ass expression on your face
singing old hard rock songs
trying to keep the pace with the beat
and all the syllables in between
while trying to do a little dance
the Bad Additude Shuffle
you're just singing words that don't hold meaning to you.



And you're just trying to impress
everyone that surrounds you
with a Bad Additude Shuffle.



And I'm sitting on a bench
on my way to Heart Break Alley
tapping my feet so The Sultans of Swing
watching as you make a fool of yourself
you're trying to two step a dance
that you know nothing of
not even the meaning
you just try to do it
because you think its cool.



You've never felt the heartache
after someone you thought you loved
fucked with your mind
and
decided to dump your heart on the ground
the frozen ground
where it shattered all over
where you had to superglue the pieces
back together
by yourself.



No have you ever been beat down
because you kept your foot down
for something you believed in.



You haven't felt the scars and the pain
everytime your heart beats
and you have never felt your heart bleed
in a thousand fucking ways
and you've never wished it would all just end
so maybe you could feel some peace,
you've never learned the meaning of the dance
like so many others have,
you've never felt the pain
nor the fucking bitterness
with every step you dance.



I'm sitting on a bench
on my way to Heart Break Alley
waiting to catch the next bus
at Heartache Station
watching you make a fool of yourself.



You're just trying to impress
someone that has felt the pain
that has learned the meaning of the song,
who has felt every beat,
every fucking syllable and guitar chord,
every drum roll,
trying to impress someone
that doesn't need to watch a video
to learn the Bad Additude Shuffle.





And you're still there
making a fool of yourself.





***Partly inspired by Bad Additude Shuffle- Cinderella and partly inspired by the guitar playing in the song
Crazy Train- Ozzy and also the song Money For Nothing- Dire Straits. and the song Sultans of Swing is also by
Dire Straits an dis a good song.***




plucking guitar strings on my arm

Take some guitar strings and poke them through my skin
pull them all the way through
and repeat this process over and over
until you've think I've been hurt enough.


You make your way stringing them through my arm
I'm like your personal guitar
but instead of playing me
you only re-adjust the strings
make them tighter
and then pluck them.


You tighten them until they break
and then watch as the string snaps inside my skin
breaking it and leaving a jagged cut
and then pull the severed string out
replace it and repeat the tightening process over again.



Another string breaks
and you cuss
am I nothing more then a piece of equipment for you?


A toy that when you get tired of playing with
you can just through in the attic
or trash,
or if the strings become unbearable to play
that you will just cut my strings
and break my arm?


I am not a toy
that you can just reat like dirt
like something you are ashamed of.....



You tighten my strings once more
and you pluck my strings again
and a string snaps
I watch as you sigh and grab another one,
will this go on
until you break so many strings
it cuts into my veins and I bleed to death
I wonder.


You finally get tired of me
sick of nursing your fingers
after everytime you play me
and you throw me in the attic
I've figured out
I am nothing more and nothing less
then a worthless toy to you.


This guitar will play the blues.



**I am not sure about the title but i didnt wanna post it as Untitled**




I Feel (Burns on the Spine)

I feel the burn, the ache of the weight of your lies
on the square of my back
digging deeper
and deeper
into my sizzling spine
into the back of my scalp
slowly
carressing up and down
in circles
a little dance that the blades of fire
and ice dance.

Lies are like ice
and ice is like fire
slowly spreading over life
dancing a little dance
only it knows
spreading over its prey
and oozing filth as it sweats.

The blades
love to play games with lies
like a hide and go seek game
or tag
but they like to throw tiny little
daggers at one another.
shredding the skin as they go down.

You told me that when I felt lonely,
You were there, watching over me to prove someone was still there loving me.

You told me that no matter what,
Stay strong, for there was someone out there who needed me.

Told me that there was someone out there
who would fall for me
who would open doors for me
who would hold me when I am sad.

Like cigarette burns on a carpet
the lies you speak
burn through my skin right to the bone
and I believed every word you said.

You told me that whenever I needed a hand to hold,
I could reach out and yours would be there,
holding mine back.

You said you'd be there for me forever.
But, you lied and now you're gone.

I felt the edges of my heart fray
and the crack deepened and
I felt as if I wanted to
stand in the spot I was at
for the rest of my life.

You lied,
I cried,
ice blades thrown at my face
like I was a target of your little game,
fireballs falling from the sky
and I had to dodge them.

I feel the burn, the ache
of your little cigarette buds
pushed on the back of my spine
the lies you told
the thin blades of ice
slice up and down on my back
dancing their nasty little dance
the weight on my shoulders
that you put there.

Ihe little game
Cops and Robbers
you wanted to rob me of my soul
rob me of my emotions
that come from my wounded heart
only for you its called
Robbers and Victims,
and in this game
In your sweetest dreams
And my darkest of reality
I am your Victim
time after time.

Time after time
again and again
and I keep screaming at the top of my lungs
and you just push down
even harder on the square of my back
the middle of my spine.


(I had some help from a few friends. originally it was going to be a collab with Nikki, a friend of mine. But she
could not think of anything to write about. So I ended up writing almost all of it.)




The Key To My Heart

There’s a lock on the door that opens my heart
Where my deepest secrets lay
Where my heart can hide and dream and hope
Of that special someone coming to take it away.

I gave that key to someone once
But he used it to his advantage
And when he thought the moment was good
He unlocked the door
And scattered the love, my memories, my secrets
All over the place.

He laughed in my face
And then he went on his way
Not looking back, but he stopped for a moment
To make sure I was crying.

I searched the world
Picking up the shattered glass
One piece at a time
Slowly super-gluing my heart back together,
And when I was finished
I relocked the door and hid the key
From prying fingers
And lying eyes.

Only willing to trust myself
I held the key really tight
Never opening my heart
I just let it sit there to collect dust.

The key to my heart
Rests in its hiding place to this day
And my heart sits there
Barely beating
Barely dreaming
Barely hoping
And collecting dust
Holding the memories
And the rest of the love I have
And the secrets
That are dear to me
And maybe one day
I will once again open it.




Sweetness Kills Sometimes


Oh gee aren’t I sweet? What the fuck, am I thinking this, or am I actually doing this? Taking a knife and stabbing
your eyes out feels so good now. I want to take a long metal rod and shove it up your nose and pull out your brain
bit by bit like the Egyptians did long ago. To see you in pain makes me happy and to hear your screams makes me
laugh and feel tingly inside. To watch you bleed for what you’ve done to deserve this. Why do you think you’re
here? Its because you messed me up mentally. I take a gun and shoot off your foot just to watch you fall makes me
gleam with joy inside. In fact it brightens up my day. I will cut off your foul tongue so you cannot say anything to
anyone anymore. I should take the knife and stab out your heart since you have repeatedly stomped on mine. Let’s
pour on the salt now. Watch you beg and cry about how it hurts. “Well you make me hurt this way so consider this
payback”, I say. Maybe if you hurt enough and survive this pain you have never felt before then you might
understand me more. You might not treat me like you do. Watch your heart bleed in pain. Can you feel it yet? Do
even have a heart? Your whole body is oozing blood, but I don’t think I am done. Take that knife and cut off your
manly-hood token and then set you on your merry way. That is if you survive that long. I take that knife and cut it
off and you scream like a little girl. Which that screaming warms my heart and makes me blush. Am I really dead
inside now? I ask and you have no reply. Well you couldn’t answer anyway cause I cut off your tongue. Your
bleeding and hurting is answer enough for me


(seriously people that hurt me I hate and these people lately have hurt me worse than everyone before and they
ended up in poems of mine. Oh and Aren’t I sweet?)


Pins, Needles, and Edges


Stick pins and needles into my heart
and see how many it takes for my heart to
B
R
E
A
K
into a million little pieces.


Push me over the edge
of this cliff so
that I can fall and
T
U
M
B
L
E
into the rocky doom
you want me to live my last few moments in.



You've broken my heart again
and once more
I've bent down to pick up the pieces
and I am not doing this time
you broke it
your fixing the shattered pieces.


I've had enough of your
"I'm too good for you act"
that you play when others are near
and I'm sick of your demanding additude
the way you think you rule,
I'm not going to be fucked with
or talked down to
when I have more self worth
then you ever could.



Stick pins and needles into my heart
see how many times they fucking
B
L
E
E
D



You were never too good for me
and you just wanted to be a Mr. Man
and I didn't want to play your games.


Push me over my
E
D
G
E


I know when you do
I'll drag you with




If I Could I'd Melt You Like Snow.

I trace my finger in the snow, writing your face like a godly image in the steeples of my soul. Your smile angelic
just like I remember it. My heart soared each time you put that silly grin on your face. How I remember you. My
heart is numb as the tears freeze into place.


My heart fell down and deflated everytime you left my side. The tears slow down and gradually come to a complete
stop and they freeze. My face going numb, my finger as well. I wonder how longer I can hold up this silent game,
I draw a smile on your face in the snow but it's not real, it never was. What used to comfort me does not anymore.


What used to warm this heart is now dust in the snow. Its just a face, unfamilar, a stranger in my eyes. How my
heart would sing, but now it hums of the love we once had. Your a faint memory in my mind, my heart still cries
your name. An echo of forgotten souls.


An eco of forgotten souls that had once crossed the same path and thought it was love. Love died a few years ago
on the same road. Just an echo of forgotten memories of two souls meant to intertwine then pull apart like paper
ripping.


"It was the heat of the moment
Telling me what your heart meant
Heat of the moment shone in your eyes"

I look into my snow drawing and I see your eyes, how they looked, pushed their way into my mind to see what I
was thinking. So badly, I need to push it out of my head, I need to push you out of my heart but you refuse to go.
Plant Your feet firmly on the ground and hold on tight, as tight as you possibly can.

Its like a worm inside of my system, a hang over that won't subside. My heart flutters and I blow softly on the
finger-chisled snow. I really did love you more then you ever could love me. I cradle up and touch my cheek
against your ghost one.

Hoping that somehow even though its freezing and your face is just snow that maybe you'll warm me up. I really
did love you more then you thought. You just never noticed. Never noticed, I think you refused to look, was I not
good enough for your love? It sure feels that way.

It was like the river it always shifted. Your eyes looked but didn't see, you were blinded. A fool for me. I hung my
heart on my sleeve hoping you'll hold it safe in your hands. But it was gushed onto the ground in little spurts of
red. How much did you have to look before you saw, you broke me? How many times did you have to feel around
and squeeze my heart (you sqeezed it so hard that it exploded) before you realized me standing there?

I saw you clearly, I whisper to my snow face of you, straight through your eyes. Whispering to the shadows of the
wind and welcoming the chill that freezes, my face, my fingers numb. I watch the wind carry off bits and pieces of
my snow drawing of you. "It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant" I know what your
heart meant I Whisper to myself as I walk inside the house.

(Gothic Symphony helped me with the poem because I thought I lost my inspiration and she also helped me with
the title. Titles are not my strongpoint. oh yeah the words in quotations are from a song called Heat of The Moment
by Asia)



Sketching Art in Ruby Red Ink


I've never been one
to sketch poetry and pieces of art
down onto a lonely sheet of paper
in ruby red ink,
and I've never been able
to sketch a masterpiece
onto any sheet of paper.

...

But that's never stopped me from trying before.


But this red ink
I am using to scrawl my words down on
it demands beauty, and perfection
in which,
I cannot give to it.



You have let me take my torch
and you have let me
throw it into a rather large
pool of water
or some unknown liquid,
Let me watch the flame burn out


what seemed like forever to me
only took a few seconds in reality.


It's too dark to see anything
well, almost anything
I can see the ghostly white paper
that keeps fucking mocking me
and god damnit I want to rip it up
into a thousand tiny bite-size pieces
to shut it up,
to shut it up.....



The torch has been burned out
yet smoke lazilly spills out
almost.........
almost as if it might
spark up again.....


Maybe.....


Maybe I just dipped my feather pen
in ink
way tooooo long,


Or maybe,

just maybe, pieces of art
will never come....



...... from me.




I've never been able to sketch my feelings
into pieces of art or poetry
onto a lonely sheet of paper
and tonight,
is no exception......



The Begining: Sinspawn

Revive in me, anarchy
Reveal the hints of hypocrisy
Left in a mass
Trapped in my grasp
A continuing wheel of death

Rise when strucken
The eternal sin
Formed within the threshold
Fall unto me eternal misery
Unleash the final prophecy

[Guitar Solo]

Formed from the endless lies
Who will be the first die?
An enternal struggle of pain
We are left with shame

What has this race succumbed to?
What is this chronic disease?
Will it grow or die?
Will it spread within a lie?



The End: The Death Melody

Ten thousand hidden lies
Concealed time after time
This sin is rightfully mine
You wouldn't understand my pain

Backlash of stereotypes
Washed in a pool of blood

Slaughter of the innocent and pure
Gratification of the unworthy and tainted

[Guitar Solo 1]

Claustrophobic nightmares
Watching flesh rott and tear
Endless wheel of death
Succumb to crystal meth

I will justify the endless lies
You will be blind and follow the unforgiven

[Guitar Solo 2]




** these are two different songs but they play a huge part with each other. so I figured instead of wasting two
credits I would waste one..... and the first song is The Begining:Sinspawn and the second song is The End: The
Death Melody**




Fuck you Asshole


A dark cape
of night
hides my face
hides my thoughts


so
I’m alone
to think to myself
and
cry in the dark


a mask of
stone to wear
another day
another asshole


Just break my heart
and
ruin my day
after all
it was going good


I show off my emotionless
looks.
You look at me:
you look at nothing


I sometimes hope
that I will
wake up
one morning
in a different
world


far away where
I needn’t hide
I will speak
I will share


and someone will listen
someone will care
and take notice
to what I am saying


but today I
am a fly
in a web
in a trap
so today I hide
behind my stone walls
in hopes that no one
tries to hurt me more


just so I
can
fail once again
hide behind another shadow
to be caught in yet
another
spider web, another trap


a useless struggle
to get by
and again you lie
and again you die
for every time you
make me fall apart
I will make you suffer
until I get you hundred fold


so now you shall suffer
the same way you broke me
go through heartbreak
live in shame
you shall die for my sweet revenge


and so for you
it will end
you will be done
you will be broken
but what about me?
Will I go on to see tomorrow,
Or am I too far gone?S