?

Leave your woman behind,
All those times that you cried,
All those sighs and thise lies,
Creeping in insecurities.
Is she worth the aggravation?
Are you wasting- too much time?
The clock strikes on your relationship,
As the realisation that you're facing,
Too much shit- sets in.
She cheated behind your back,
Stole all the limelight.
She defeated your mind- as a matter of fact,
you've wasted- too much time.
Go out those doors, shut the curtains,
She's the whore, she'll be the one hurting.
Your dark eyes meet mine, you look so divine,
Here baby drink this wine,
Hush slut now snort this line,
Let your brain fly.
Try to play me a fool, I'll teach you a fucking lesson,
You broke my heart, left me stressing,
Young adolescents?
I'll break your neck and leave you second guessing.

Untitled.

I rise like a flower budding.
Soon dead, feeling nothing.
Cold wind blowing on my rotting corpse.
The breeze isn't stopping and my voice is hoarse.
Fuck a butterfly. It's all dead.
The A-Bomb drops from the sky
And lands on my head.
Disaster spread through these fields.
Everything dead in thse fields.
Eyes red up,haven't been to sleep yet.

Love is free in all the ways I am not.
All the pains and strains disappear over the years and just stop.

Short but sweet.

So. Hows things? Quite mighty fine white wine.

Hangovers rarely seem to exist anymore, sobriety still not obtained.

I'm just stronger now than I've ever been. My stomach has decayed from alcohol, my lungs from smoking and I'm incredibly happy.

Her eyes reach mine. Her lips shine, inviting. We lean into each other, lips locking, just slightly. Teasing. I wake up. These dreams have been haunting me for a while now. Same woman, different day. Different woman, same day. Wheres the glove that fits eh?

Still woman-free so ultimately woe free. Go me.

There is a woman involved. The butterfly effect. I fall for her, she doesnt fall for me.Two minutes later shit is reversed. My sexist stature doesn't sit right with her and that's good for me.

Peace brothers. Short but sweet.

It's an evil prediciment. Life, woes, whims, fuck.
Footloose, fancy free, spring in the step.
No.
Life is too fucking complicated. Happiness cannot be obtained.
Happiness exists no more. Just hijinks and play.
Sadness. A stiff drink that fills you through,brings out emotions hidden deep away.

?

My hands are shaking
My stomach's aching.
What can I do to stop the hating?
My eyes are dead, my head split vision.
I see my double lieing across adjacent.
I can't stand looking at mirrors.
All I my thoughts and dreams are mirrored
Got a drink here, strong, bitter.
Can't think clear go on quitter.
End it all. Be a fool, fall, call out and end up splitted.
No-one will miss ya.
At your funeral, your ass they'll all kiss yeah, but none of them gives a shit man.

I feel like the Incredibe Hulk.
My back has been broke and I can still walk.
Why have I suddenly had a burst of anger?
It's strange. I'm not pissed off. Upset.
I just have a sense of urgency about me. Bring everyone up to speed.
Jog their memories.
Remember me? I'm the kid who used to make you all laugh.
No? Oh okay.
Who am I now? I don't know. It's not a horrible feeling if I'm honest.
It means I can be who I like. Different masks for different occasions.
Woman-bashing chauvanist in one place.
Casanova in another.
Predator. Hiss my lines. Snare you in. Next thing you know I've devoured you for better or worse.

I have no cares for you plastic people anymore. I used to enjoy baiting you.
Now I enjoy sitting back and watching you destroy yourselves.
Maturity. Amazing thing. I'll lose it soon enough so for now be appreciative.
I hit my bottom the other day. I have no intention of pulling myself back up.
I'd rather wallow in this fucked up mindset I'm in. It's fun.
"Fuck the world" I scream. Nah too much effort.
Time to fall back onto the good days of whiskey,cigarettes and lust.
Not that I'll act on it. I have an uncaring female to hold tending too first.
With that said and done. Sleep well. Why I'm even writing this I have no idea nobody reads it.
But hey better out than in ay?

Sore sight.

You're just showing me what I despise.
A sore sight for sore eyes.
Jealousy raring it's ugly fucking head and attacking me, tackling me to the ground.
I try to kick it off me,wrestle it but its a feeble attempt.
In all honesty I love this feeling. I love the feeling of conflict. Enjoy it too.
Can I explain why I'm taken under? Yes and no.
I hate the fact all you do is mention other lads. Comparisons if you will.
I hate the fact that you still keep in touch with your ex. He that amazing?
Go back to him. I'll still be here face down in my own vomit. Churned up within my turmoiled soul.
It shouldn't even bother me. Really shouldn't. My minds past the point of reasoning.
Fuck it. Pick up move on. There are no metaphors I want to lay down here.
I've got nothing I can hide behind. Simply the fact is you piss me off good and proper.
And yet I can't leave it. Is it your vagina? Most likely. Is it the laughs we have? probably.
But fuck it. Play your game. Go. Play. Have fun. Just don't blame me when my heart reverts back to the dirt from whence it came.