iam

iamapersonwhowrites
iamapersonwhosleeps
iamapersonthatfights
iamapersonwhosright

iamaperson who's dead.

Iam a person who was.

I am a-

I was a person who I respected.

I'm Racist

It's Fact.
My words,
I'm not taking them back.

"You're sick,"
"You're twisted,"
"You crazy Spic."

I am crazy.
I am twisted.
My mind is a frenzy.

"Your kind,"
"They're all the same"
"Hating whatever they can find."

Yes, I'm the best kind of racist
That one kind that is blind, deaf and mute.
I;s that one kind that hypocrites can't resist.

Abrasame

Your gaze upon my skin,
Tearing at my flesh,
I can't stand it.
I can't take it.

No mires.
No veas.
En este momento,
No estoy aquí.



You idiot.
You moron.
You unrelenting bastard.
You looked, didn't you?

¿Cual es la razón?
¿El motivo
Por esta indiscreción?
¿Que era tu objetivo?

¿Dañarme?
Consume me?
¿Engañarme?
Sear my body to black?

Dolls

What are Dolls?
"They are human shaped,
Items which hold a likeness to ourselves."

What are Dolls for?
"They are playthings of children,
Items which hold not concept of "humanity."

What are Children?
"They are human shaped,
They are beings that hold a likeness to ourselves."

What are Children for?
"They know not of humanity,
They have not concept of morals.

Human, but not quite human,
These eerie shells of a human likeness
We make."

What for?



"To play God"

Come again?

I Dislike You.
I Dislike You.
I dis like you
i dis like you
idis like you
idislike you
idislikeyou
idislikeyou,

I like you.

Roses are red.

Wounds make you bleed
Hypothermia makes you blue.

If your love was killing me,
I'd rather kill you.

No more of this.
None of that.

I'll push you off the edge
Then wait for you to go splat.

Fire and Brimstone

I hate Pickles.

I hate your Pickles. So know I will not eat your Pickles or anyone's Pickles.

I hate Pickles.
I really hate Pickles.

I don't care that you like Pickles. I don't mind when You eat Pickles. But don't try to feed me Pickles because I won't eat Pickles. I would much rather die than eat Pickles.

By the way, 'Shit' is a bad word.

A Stupid Child

Growing up I believed I had a ticker in my heart,
With Hands that moved around and around
With Hands that went in circles,
With Hands that wouldn't
Stop.

Until one day the hands on my ticker broke.
Time kept moving around me
Making circles much like
My Hands had done.

Now I know better
I am not longer that stupid child
Thinking's hands moved in circles as he ran in them too.

I'm an adult now.
I have circles much bigger than I had before.

I'm an adult now and I'm terribly frightened.
In my much larger circles, in the dead of the night I heard a ticking, a whirling, spinning noise.

In the dead of the night I felt my chest tick and tock for only a brief moment, but that's all it took.

I'm
Scared.
That
Ticker
Who's
Hands
Broke,
Who
Flatlined,
Just ticked in the dead of the night.

I'm fucked

Brief

-

I had always wanted a mirror of my own.

But never got around to buying one.

Can't really practice smiling without

One.

--

I looked into the reflection.

Really just glanced.

Hadn't really bothered

Thinking of the consequences.

From the other side peered

A wrinkly,

Weather beaten Old Man

But just at death's doorstep.

His face contorted,

Strained with effort,

He gave me the most pathetic smile.

I looked back.

The reflection was gone.

I took the mirror and tossed it

without even a second glance.

---

From a shard next to the bin,

A toothless grin

Smiled a the sky,

As the garbage man passed on by.

----

I had always wanted a mirror of my own.

Now I'm terrified of what I'm shown.