Not much change Thursday, Jun 10 2021

I used to watch you pass by at 17

Heart broken, jaded and mean,

I’m not much different now.

No, not much better now.

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You shall welcome us. Wednesday, Feb 3 2021

A bottle of wine in and who are you?

I A wise lover to be headed

Or an old man looking for obedience

I am not your dog

But I will u bite..

Down on the hand of uniformity

We are not your progeny

We are our very own creatures

And we wait in the dark

The dark to you gave us to render you blind

And though you do not see us

We shall rise

And you,

Faint of heart

Shall crumble

We are the now

And you shall

Welcome us

Or

Fear the progress

Do not fear me

I am you

And i will come for you.

-A.s.L. =^.^=©

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Covid 19 @ 3 A.M (sad song) Saturday, Mar 28 2020

I want to sing but there’s another part
& no one’s here to sing it
I want to know it’s going to be okay
& even though I know it is
i still want  you to be here to say it
who is the you?
the one to hold me at night
the one to tell me it’s okay to close your eyes
Is it okay?
I never thought this would be the thought that kept me up at night
The worry I had about what would end it all was never this idea
Never this morose reality
Nore the probable future
I thought that it would be fire and demons
I thought that it would be the loneliness and self-destruction
but never had i thought it would be this
how did we get here?
&why did no-one listen
What flawed creatures
what power did we exude to manifest the exact thing we deserved
& oh how we could have changed it
but here we are
& I told you so’s will not fill the bellies of the crying and hungry
who will read the novels
& who will listen to the podcasts
& who will look upon the art
For all the art to be born because of our isolation
because of the last days of the now we know
Who cares if I was right
 if there is no one’s here to learn the lesson There’s no toilet paper now but there might be no food tomorrow
hungry people make large mistakes
we were so worried
& i can’t sleep and it’s almost 3 a.m.
I want to sing but no one’s here to sing the second part
& this was definitely a sad song.

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Demon Saturday, Feb 29 2020

Your words in my head are still ringing
you called me a demon
but I’m still Feenin
for those hands
those arms that hug
simultaneously Crushing My Heart
You tore us apart
It wasn’t the drink
It was the emptiness
Not in a cup
but all of your love
A box with nothing inside
I may be the demon
But at least I dont hide
My sharper parts
They were on my head from the get go
You just didn’t wanna see them
You wanted to grind them down
So I fit neatly into that empty box
Well I am a demon
I’ll be the night
I’ll scare the good girls
And bite the hand that feeds
I’ll be be me
And to that I’ll raise a glass
To the nightmares I hope you’re having too
you made the choice
now you have to see this through
you were the one that left me
and with clawed hands I’ll be the demon writing poetry

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what the hell did you slip in my drink? Wednesday, Oct 29 2014

dark walls,

low lifes in pool halls.

black out patches,

face full of mystery scratches

and what the hell did you slip in my drink?

 

I got home,

but I don’t know how.

all I can do is throw up now.

where’s my phone

and what the hell happened to my clothes?

 

 

there’s blood in my panties

and no one’s in my bed.

I can’t get up,

there’s a pounding in my head.

and why the hell did I leave my drink?

 

-End

‘of a real bad night, yes this is a real story. be careful out there ladies and never leave your dink alone.’

=^.^=©

 

.

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Writers lament Friday, Aug 29 2014

She was as wicked as they come.
Outside sweet as a sugar plum,
Doe eyed girl faking dumb.

Waltzing around as if to pronounce that every step made her different.
She still hid behind the passing Trends.
No ones immune to the Internet,
After all she did love cats.

Rhymes and songs kept her going,
They always had.
Next to marry Jane ofcourse,
But they outdated ever her.

Robert graves fed her darkness and her light,
Shakespeare defined what she read
And everyone compared her work to dr. Suse.
Such a cruel fate she had eared,
By the work in her head.

She drank like hunter Thomson,
Made up words like him to.
She was indeed a mess,
Yet words she could still do.

Like any grate writer,
She had contemplated taker her life.
Pain is both fuel and the ultimate downfall of any passionate writer.
She saw her notebooks like lovers left with her bastard children to carry out her name.
She knew she wouldn’t live to see it,
But maybe they would.

Then there’s the Internet,
Drunk blogging on iPods and what not.
If that shit lasts,
I hope it only saves the good ones.

-end
=^.^=

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intro and draft of chapter one Monday, Mar 10 2014

As many good stories have started with before, this one starts with a girl.Her name was Addilee and she was storming out of her mother house retreating to the garden when she slipped.

She fell down and left, vertical and to the right, and onto her bottom in a strange new land. disoriented and weekly picking herself from what she assumed was her mother garden which steps she had almost certainly feel way to hard off of and clearly was not where she had landed.

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dark nights and dark rum Wednesday, Jun 22 2011

another night of tall glasses filled with dark rum

and darker needs

roll some ganja and lay back

lets play like we were still young

that glass is looking low lets get another

take another hit and try to get closer to where your at

yours is gone again and mines almost empty

looking into a tall glass at a shalow crimson silouet of myself

hating that im wanting more

and not only of this drink

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that one lost peice Thursday, Jan 27 2011

im giving up now

there’s no point any more

the dark prince won

and the king is lost

what will happen of the fair maiden

ill tell you

 

she wondered into the forest to die

there sadly she did no such thing

she walked and wondered

to deep to find her way out

she there still but lost in so many ways

 

to her it’s all screaming

all loud crippeling reminders

echoing off the walls of her head

failure, guilt, regret..

 

you can see her still

walking empty eyed

there’s nothing left inside

just pain

just the slight curve in her eyebrow

to show she could still feel that

she could still feel pain

if only that

 

she remembers happiness

she remembers looking into the good kings eyes

she rembers  life, air, feelings….

it’s all gone now

 

she carved it out of her heart and thew it to the woods

that girl has it now

she scars the fair maiden

always watching

standing there still beckoning her at the end of the path

she dare not go there

so forever she’ll wonder these woods

void of happiness waiting to find that lost piece

but never brave enough to take it back…

 

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ill tell you about those vines in the walls Tuesday, Sep 28 2010

do see them vines

their growing out of the walls

and oh my gosh its hot in here

i need my umbrella

the heat lightning is staring to cause rain

witch is odd cuz its September

wheres all the snow

the white pearly hills of ice

do you remember the time we crashed into that snow bank

when we played pedidel and i got but ass naked in bunnys car

oh the times we’ve had

the long days lisening to system of a down smoking pot with the Russians

playing hand ball on a hot summer day

then walking to the egg cream for a slush puppy

ill tell you a secret

but shhhh you cant tell

the walls have ears and the vines are reaching for my soul

and here they come

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