the fight for individuality and the irony of identity fraud(everyone wants to be someone else)

this is the land of the free who chose slavery. an ever expanding suburbia built with strategically placed tombstones. your coffin is just part of the scenery. never mind the green in our eyes or the ink on our skin, we built this three car garage with integrity and the sweat on our brows. elastic lips. we're impailed on our white picket fences. once friends, now buisness associates. just another conquest. steel and plastic nametags twist and form into the shape of a heart. socially accepted contortionist. every smile rhymes and every kiss hints at silverscreen innocence. like riding a merry-go-round on the highway.

the future of the entire world and human civilization:

"Under Construction. Please excuse our dust."

horror story

have you heard the rumors about the creature that lurks down by the shallow creek? the hiddeous monster with a manipulator's soul. with naive curiosity burried in their hearts, he draws the children to come play with an inviting smile. once they have all too willingly given their trust, he uncovers his fangs and feeds on their innocence. at a glance his face looks normal, but underneath discover brittle scales and open wounds. his eyes are clouded with a milky grey and filled with war. a war surrendered so long ago in the fight to keep his heart alive. it seemed like a worthy cause at the time, but now the calvary drinks deep from a jaded cup. from his mouth grows a plastic boquet. but hidden behind seductive color lies a slippery tongue dripping with poison. from each cracked tooth his victim's flesh hangs. you'll feel compelled to release your problems and darkest secrets into the safety of his empathetic ears. but say too much and he'll swallow you into that deep canal. this beast has followed me to the end. he haunts my every thought. i will kill him and set us free. cut out his lungs and give life back to this dead town and all his slaves. as i press my hands up against my face i peel the scales away and run my fingers over new scars. i look into the mirror with empty eye sockets and try to cry but no tears come. i open my mouth to scream but only synthetic petals fall from my lips. i can hear them praying for deliverance inside the dark keep of my mind. have you heard the legends of the villian down the street? they're all true.

there's more to life than binge and purge

don't worry about the footprints behind you and don't strain your neck to see the dark trail ahead. just let your tongue get caught up in the undertow from waves of medication. wash it down with a glass of your finest wine. slip the blindfold over your eyes and slowly all reality will be dulled and senses calmed. the stalks grew unnoticed through the pavement. keep still, the harvest this way comes. the rusty old sheers peel skin from bone and now the crops wade ankle deep in my blood. but i have never seen the sun shine so bright. i stumbled into the prophet's mouth and now i'm trapped. it's cold and damp behind these teeth but i found the flock. the cap won't provide much resistance for your desperate fingers. peer into a collage of color. a tunnel filled to the brim with ounces of empty hope. poverty came with a network of endorphins. your kind acts cannot disguise the hemophiliac.

the girl next door

wait, there's something going wrong here. i should have know, i should have seen the look in her eye. leaving a trail of scattered hopes in her wake. princess of a kingdom of vultures that feast on mankind. i can see the crown you wear so proudly, it was made with skin and bones. you keep walking to the shore to meet the roaring tidal waves. i'll kiss your salty, blue lips and wake you up. you limp back bruised and battered with tears in your eyes. i'll grab your fragile hand and whisper softly into your ear. you'll smile and then run back to the beach. this sand and his sting is your comfort zone. stay away from her boy! she'll cast a spell and capture your heart. the ambulance is always one step ahead and the hearse is one behind.

blood, death, and disaster are a little cliche but then again so are fame, glamour, and romance

a new morning has dawned. it came hand in hand with reform. progressing and expanding to the setting sun. refining the air we breath. turning weaping faces into expressionless stares. at least it's an improvement. every afternoon the old politicians are marched out back and smothered with blueprints. our once harmless habbits evolved into dark and souless vices. they creep in the shadows and devour us with bloodstained teeth in the secret of our homes. aware of their intentions, we left our doors cracked. graveyard masterfully transformed into a playground. if hidden bones remain, our utopia vanishes.

80123

i reach to fasten my seatbelt. this is my communion with the almighty. hands folded from point a to point b. the noise swirls all around, sometimes it's a fog and sometimes it's a wasp. the only silence i hear is the brief moment in between the dialtone and your answering machine. lazy tongues, frozen in motion, slur endless sylables into a monologue, stopping only to come up for air. the winding, black pavement calls me back to explore its hidden adventures. thousands of miles of blending white dashes and radiowaves is my choice. i bent down to kiss distraction's red lips. the only faithful mistress i have left. i'm such a gifted architect, building walls from armor. i don't fear commitment but i can't help but notice the rope you hold. i haven't had a dreamless night in a while now. acquaintances avoid messy handshaking.