Yes yes come and join... The world outside becomes a brighter place once you see the darkness in yourself...

Well we could make a thread for those interested in being able to express their innermost morbid thoughts... and we could tutor them...

Treaty
I think we should teach the world how to see in the dark...^^

Here ya go Treaty,
Absolution awaits underlying pangs of fear and doubt. (Hope for what might be and what never will.)
Livid leprous seething mental scars leek slightly out missing broken ears… Faces faced with their facades fracture forcibly (while withered souls wheeze weakly beneath their own weight)
…Hands hand you a helping hand only to hold it over you while you struggle up to thank them… Massive mites of great might break weakly upon the jagged pillars of stone keeping our feet from drowning in self piteous pestilent piousness…
Leaving those broken behind to wither and lie at our feet frantically fricasseeing blistered cracked and mottled skin without eyes we look, filled with vehement vicarious viciousness our teeth tear tenuously at our masks, trying ineptly infuriatingly incase inklings of inferiority invade our self-righteousness as we slide our feted foot atop each others head trying to escape the heated self-drowning,
watching those suffering around us with vile contempt while sipping blood laden tropical drinks from skulls (with little pink umbrellas in them), we laugh callously at our own suffering in others eyes while holding the key beside their faces attempting to rationalize in our own sick fantasies how they’re feeling while downtrodden and scraping to breathe,
sick pustules bubble with human indifference as we sink further toward what we once built ourselves to stand atop, no, our feet sink faster with each passing day and when the sirens song finally calls us to our own self fulfilling prophecy the pain and regret we will perfectly in absolution upon the mottled skin faces we tore from our own bones, look deep into your soul and see what vile contemptible being lives within our scars and eyes…

Wakka wakka, wheres my duck?

I'm sorry...

Strawberry with frosting and sprinkles...

Cantankerous ribbons lift me on high,
Acid leaves crash in my bleeding eye,
Androgynous lap lipid severed mind,
Livid teeth chatter out my mouth,
I thrive in excruciating seizures,
Fingers split in and out of your devotion,
Meekness cracks my toughened skin,
Faces drip down reverent memories,
Lunacy brings me round again,
Veins coarse your seething life,
Sounding like minds I ring true,
You voice cuts windy mistiness,
Love fractures my carcass,
Splinters my mislaid mind,
As the pallbearers hide me once again,
I’ll say I love you and mean it this time…

Well... sort of... it did ruin my life, left me without money, without a place to sleep and without my car and without one of my friends...

Yeah a little blast from the past for y'all...

and I wrote the second one a day after I got my heart torn from my chest...

I got 2
Yellow custard dripping from your dead gods eye,
**** that in placid sanguinity you will surely die…
In stationary lived lives stagnant sickly sweet
Every moment alive in motionless bristly beat,
Cadence our spirits earthly bodies lead us on,
History writhes painfully in our present days bygone,
Our philosophy of what is, stands lying dead…
In scrappy broken books lying to be read,
The lessons of our history repeated now today,
We repeat our blunder in every way, we stay…
Languid doubts lay greasily on your minds eye
Retching lively our thoughts in their place we slowly die…
Thinking is all for naught in this world of place and time,
Even living prose dies structured in my simple rhyme…
Yet if a single kernel of thought grows from its death,
It is worth every indignant and anxious breath…


We sit nothing we lie through our teeth,
Nothing we have to stand upon the heath,
Those missing and never found alive,
Never shown how they lived and thrived,
How is our obsession with life and of death,
Why do we claw painfully for our last breath…
Do we grasp to life for the fear of nothing?
Do we not know how nothing is something…
Without the prince there would be no pauper,
How does life lost to be thought of as proper…
Why do we clutch for our place in history,
Why do we beat our heads for our mystery?
Are we a part of a great mans plan,
Or do we live to create all we can…
In twenty years I’ve done less than,
A thousand times I am not a man…
Why am I nothing in this world?
Or will my plan be soon be unfurled?


and this one

I fetid lie in writhing ruin,
Amidst my feelings you do me in,
My face torn from under this guise,
I wonder what’s within your surprise,
A degenerate sycophant lying heartless,
A romantic fool screaming hopeless,
I thrash violently flesh files asunder,
I stand to think now I wonder,
Self-loathing strangles decrepit mind,
Looking for answers to you to find,
Torturous thoughts lay greasily on my mind,
Eyes sown shut I myself am blind,
Condemnation of my unclean soul,
Consciousness taken and swallowed whole
I wring my own neck the pain goes away,
I scrape together my broken mind,
I beg not to be tortured if only one day,
My whole my one for you it pined,
I staple my heart back to one rotten hell,
As to my knees I wrathfully fell,
I reach deep inside my blade finds my arm,
My blood tries to undo your perfect harm,
Thinking blissfully I’ll be content,
As off into the sunset you plainly went,
I reach deep to peel back my squalid skin,
To show what waits you within,
To reveal what I truly am,
Peacefully I sit to be your lamb,
Nothing more than simple words,
Leaving you to fly as birds,
Nothing more then pain filled screams,
I am nothing what it seems,
A mindless thought in a beautiful mind,
Left forever for you to remind,
My worthless being sat bare for you,
As you rifled my mind once though,
Sat willingly while you stuck your hand deep inside,
You squeezed my broken heart till it popped
Sat willingly and deathly still as I slowly died,
As my head you would’ve just lopped,
Like the parasite truly I am,
I lay restless in my own bed
My essence my being a beautiful sham,
And drill that wire into my head,
I’ve made what I now endure,
Pain is nothing short of pure,
I am nothing within naught,
To be disposed of without thought…

I don't delete and I have less then 10

I use a straightrazor and it gets everything on the first swipe... hair, skin, muscle, bone... everything... But what pisses me off is the fact that I have 5 o' clock shadow at 3:30 in the afternoon...

Ranch doritos...

I confuse myself so I don't even want to try to understand anyone else...

Nope its soup... not sure what kind *licks some of it off the floor* Aaaahhh its pea soup...

Short sweet and to the point!

Well you should try, Untitled and Fairytale show some real promise...

Have you ever been published?

I didn't mean to say I didn't like them and definately didn't mean to say he wasn't talented I was simply saying that the first one had some problems and the second one was much better. I mean Charlie Chaplin said it best "Why should Poetry have to make sense?" I was siply giving an honest critique to a fellow poet... nothing scathing or ill mannered... and I'm sorry if it came off that way.