Sunday, April 8, 2018

The broken down trailer

I met you on a Tuesday in the mid of the scorching summer heat. You were a unique piece of specimen, a rarity, a classic, and I drove you off that lot that night. And though you were just a broken down trailer I was happy I found you. You were kind of small and shabby and there really wasn’t anything fine about you. You were really cheap and you needed a lot of repairs. But you were all mine and I was all yours and for the first time in my life I was an owner of something.

I remember our first night together; we drove down to the ocean. I was so afraid you might break down along the way but you got me there. We drove right into the ocean and as the warm water touched my feet I knew I was where I was meant to be. The waves crashed down on you like a sinking ship but I got you out just in time. That night I fell asleep in the warmth of your comfort and it felt like a thousand nights in a broken down trailer and I was alright with that.

I lost you on a Friday as the start of autumn began. You were from a small town trailer park and now you’re in a big city shop. I knew you were destined for much bigger things than me. I knew I couldn’t give you all the upgrades you desperately needed so I gave you up. And as I walk this lonely road thinking about you, my arms start to drag, legs start to rattle, my back starts to crack, and my heart starts to squeak. As I fall to my knees I become a broken down trailer. I wonder who’s going to save me now.

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Incurable Mind

The clock strikes eight and I can feel your hate press down on my mind like two drills drilling on the side of my head going deep into my skull. You can try to drill me the info that I’ve done you wrong but I’ve got an incurable mind. You can try to change me and cure my mind, send me to bed at eight but while you sleep I’ll stay awake, drifting away. It’s already nine, I should be asleep but I got an incurable mind. Down the slide of the devil’s throat I go where he tells me a penny for my thoughts, I say no sir I already got too many dimes, a quarter to one and already I’m lost in your subconscious mind. 

You call out to me in your sleep but I’m already on another dream swimming in a sea of ink, trying to figure out what monsters are sinking deep. The sky is baby blue and the land is a curvy terrain but it’s like paradise for my incurable mind. I think I see turkeys in the sky and I don’t think that’s not a good sign for you since you’re a heavy chain smoker. I think I’m quitting you like cold turkey because I’ve got an incurable mind. But just when I think I’m done the smoke turns into the devil and he says you got to ride this ride.  I say I don’t know sir I’ve already wasted enough time but he said I’m already lost on my dime because I’ve got an incurable mind.

Black is the sky and black is this ride that’s wickedly fast that it makes me nauseous inside. Down I go down the devil’s slide, twisting and turning, steeply pitfall, a rush of blood, head fall, and I’m falling upside down in a volcano. I think I’m burning, no I’m just in your mind and the devil wants to play a game but I say sir I’ve got to get home. He says a penny for your thoughts before I go but I’ve got too many thoughts; they circle around me like pesky flies that won’t leave me alone. I think I’m seeing a haze, no it’s a drilling in my brain because I’m drifting away, I’ve got an incurable mind.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

The higher hierarchy (The Duel Part II)

I had a dream that I shouldn’t go to school this semester, a warning that I was in great danger of failing. Oh I should have listened. Little did I know there would be a witch like you there, casting your spells, making me fail. Well I’ve had enough! You may have the power to fail me, but you don’t have the power to banish me, that remains with the higher hierarchy. You’re a cruel disgusting bitch! You’re Dolores Umbridge and I’m Sybill Trelawney.  You may think I am a useless dumb person, but I predict you’re in grave danger! Now go ahead and throw me out because you know I’m right. But for every step you take up the stairs, I will take one down because I believe in honesty. I’m defenseless now! Oh how could the higher hierarchy allow such foul! But the higher hierarchy is corrupted now.    

You're injustice! You're unmoral! You are the higher hierarchy! You think you’re the hero, you think you are part of the Order, well if that’s the case then I’ll join the Death Eaters tonight as we rattle your cage. If the teachers have gone mad then we’ll burn the school down! Incendio! Ignis! Eternus! Intra! Animus! Flamma! Infinito! Now inferi in the firestorm as your precious school is reduce to ash. I am reborn like a phoenix rising from the depths of hell, I triumphant over your cell, and break free of the spell. Show yourself! Take off that veil you wear so well as though you were a saint in a room full of sinners. But the only sin in this room is your corruption. 

You may think you’re the headmaster that has earned everyone’s respect but I know they are just your pawns under your imperious spell. Your magic doesn’t work on me anymore, now I have powers beyond your spells! Crucio! You will answer to me now! You little bitch! How dare you take a pass at my grades! Crucio!! Stop spewing lying! You fucking cunt! How dare you dishonor me! Crucio!!! You are nothing more than a whore, robbing every one of their dignity! You shameless person! I had a dream that you were dead, now Avada Kedavra! I cross the stage and take your place; I am now the higher hierarchy.

Saturday, November 28, 2015

The rise of friendship

The past is a tricky thing; it’s always there like a cold shiver that slides down your back, reminding you what happened is behind you now.  Yet at the same time the past is also in front of you, lurking in the darkest shadows that no light can ever illuminate. The past is like a revolver with only one bullet, it’s constantly clicking and turning until the bullet meets the barrow. Then Bang! The door to the past opens and there you see an old friend. Those hard felt emotions you once claimed you would never feel again have suffered to your heart. And here you are, at the peak of your rise.   

I never thought we would meet again after everything we been through. But that’s to show that anyone that can clash and burn can be resurrected. So what’s up, how you been? - is usually how it goes. And then you talk and talk and talk some more until you make arrangements to meet.  But something isn’t right- I can feel it in your type. Your words are great but they don’t match your brain. You can talk a great game but playing it is a whole another game. When words don’t meet actions you know you’ve been played. Then all of a sudden you realize you been playing Russian-roulette this whole time and I got the bullet.  

But the thing about the past is tricky; you think you know the past, yet at the same time you don’t know anything about it. The past comes and goes like a cold shiver down your back, sending pain in cold fragments to your brain. The images become distorted and blurry by the bullet that you thought was going to be the rise of your friendship. But then click! And then bang! A new door is open just like that and here is the rise of friendship you didn’t expect- a friend you thought was dead.

Thursday, November 26, 2015

The walls to an empty house

There used to be a home quite nice and sweet
It used to be like grandmas but much more things
Leather sofas, cushion seats, fine china, menagerie
It was a home of luxury
The walls were filled with rich memories
And on holidays family would come
But from night to day everything was gone
No one was sure why the house went dull
It was like someone robbed the home of all its sweet love and joy
And what was left was very bitter
That when December came no one visited
Years and years went by
And the walls to an empty house cried
The tears filled the house with dust
And soon enough the house turned gray just like the lady

Monday, November 23, 2015


Everything is fine, everything is perfect. I love the way you always laugh at every mistake I make. Every wrong turn I take is another high step you make. By the ladder you are the highest majesty parading around in your golden throne, looking down at those who’ve dug themselves in holes. No one can hold a card to your name, yet every card you hold has the power to destroy. You win the game and win the war while I lose and die silently because I don’t have a voice around your golden words. But for once I want to see you fail at life. I want to see you fall from grace and be ashamed of the choices you made. I want to cut your wings and break your halo. I want to condemn you to hell so I can see you burn. I want to cut your throat so I won’t hurt. I want to be able to write you off as a failure in life and then laugh. I want to scream to the world that you have fallen from grace and that I have been promoted to god. Everything is not fine and nothing is perfect for I have fallen and you have ascended.  

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Manson’s Deception

For twenty-six years I held my position
High and mighty above the rest
 Time after time I withstood the test

God made me his Angel
To preach his words
And down I went to earth
To tell you it hurts to be unfaithful

But you said no one will die
If you lie for a day
As long as I don’t say
His name in vain
You’ll be okay

Well when I tried to fly
Back to heaven
My wings tore
I fell to earth
I am Angel no more

I thought you’d catch me
But you didn’t
And I kept falling
Until I reached the bottom

Down here I always mourn
I grew horns
Now I am the ruler
Of the underworld