If It Doesn’t Kill… Then It Doesn’t Hurt?…

After so many rejections it becomes so much easier to ignore the vultures that come circling around my rotting corpse. Letter after letter. Email after email telling me they wish me well. Words copied and pasted as hollow as my soul. All of this self-mutilation for one person to just be like, “This is alright.” That’s all it takes. At least that is what they say. Who the fuck are, is this they? They never shut up like the voices inside my head. Constantly driving me into the grave.

Overnight is all that it takes and all you need is one semi-interested interest. So, I keep slamming my head. Cutting a piece of myself off little by little until there is nothing left. Then all of sudden, out of nowhere, “We’d love to work with you.” What the hell does that even mean? I’m in the business of cuts, gushing wounds, and scars. I have no prior experience in this kind of reaction. The messages come flooding in. Email after email the tides begin to change. Then the calls start coming in. “How the fuck did you get this number?” All of a sudden you are all there is. All there will ever be.

They say success goes to our heads. Not true. It is fucking bitterness. “Oh, now I’m something?” I want to scream. I want to beat the phone against the desk. “Last week I wasn’t much of anything. Last year when I was practically begging, hanging on by a lifeline, and unfortunately I wasn’t a good fit for Flowers Monthly. Now all of a sudden I am something?” It only takes one, but a thousand submissions later everyone can fuck off.

It isn’t success it is bitterness to the whole process that pushes everything along. Do you think after this sea of rejection you will be receiving anything of actual value? I mean I’m so special all of a sudden? Well here is the material I wouldn’t even put in my book. Here is the stuff I dug out of the trash after I wiped my ass with it. Keep everything. Sold out you say or getting even? Depends on what side of the screen you live on. An asshole or apathetic is up to you to decide. I have moved on. I have accepted that the vultures will take whatever of me is left. I sold my soul and I’m even more proud to admit that I don’t care. Check out my newest piece in Flowers Monthly, and don’t forget to like and subscribe. Food isn’t free and electricity isn’t cheap.

Layne Ambrose

Broken Thoughts…

Always standing and watching
Participation is only an option
Waiting through the darkness
Copying, pasting thoughts and ideas
My thoughts have never been
Mine and mine alone

Generations of bending and shaping…

Walking this as slow as I can
The rush to die wasted on the youth
Thoughts of immortality disappear with every year
To be trapped in this old casket
Would be hell
The sands of time will only weigh me down from here
Giving in was never an option
It was always the plan

A never ending conclusion of thought…

Your words don’t inspire me
They dig, carve out a place within my soul
A den of deceit, lies, beauty to unfold
They consume, swallow me whole
Every instance of instinct
Every truth of existence
Proves my point as it grows
The thoughts burn up inside me
I’m burning down slowly
Ashes given back to the earth
Lonely, depressed maybe this is what I deserve
A life wasted on dreams, on the absurd
The more I want it the further it seems
What is it that I want so badly in these dreams?
The fire must rage, fuel to the flame
Even if it is slowly killing me all the same
What do I have left
Ashes, condemned to my last breath

Broken Thoughts

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Broken Thoughts…

The blood cascades down the wall
You know you are home
When everything is comfortable
Bones line the edges of the room
You know you are home
When everything seems fine
Skin drapes the furniture
You know you are home
When everything is normal

Scars scratched deep across their faces…

Tangled up in all your razor wire
Think about running
But all I know is pain
I think about what if
But all I know is disappointment
I was told everything would be fine
Now all I know has been only lies
Hold out long enough everything should be okay
Though I know on a scale from bad to worse
Everything is the same

Ticking away time as though it doesn’t matter…

Black on black isn’t a fashion statement
How I feel inside most of the time
Living in a deep dark hole that is my mind
Could you leave if you knew
Could it matter before it didn’t
Each day goes on whether you know or not
The darkness only gets darker whether it matters or not
What is before when this is all there is now?
Black on black isn’t a fashion statement
Just easier when you couldn’t possibly
Make one more damn decision about nothing at all

Broken Thoughts

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Amazon

Broken Thoughts…

We give it up
We give it all up in blood
Until we are nothing
Never enough for some or no one at all
We turn it over
We turn it over with our souls
Until we have nothing left
Never enough for most or anyone at all
We work it all
We work it all with our lives
Until it is all we are
Never enough so we come back for more

A hopeless excuse to wake up every morning…

Wearing myself thin, dead skin mask
Stretched so tight, who am I supposed to be
If I can’t be you
Envision myself to be better
Lies I tell myself to get by
Broken boned and everything I despise
Two more days and I’ll be okay
Keep telling myself the same old shit
Hasn’t worked yet, what’s the meaning of insanity
Beating my head against the wall
Soon all the thoughts will flow out
Soon all that is wrong will be right again
Long drawn out thoughts
With no meaning at all

Life is descending into a lost cause…

Scars cut across my heart
The dead look in your eyes
Been so long since, a long time since
Once held on so tight
Like it mattered, like it was
The distance between our lips
A difference between screaming and yelling
What it is and what it was
Been so long since, a long time ago
That your words didn’t hurt
Didn’t leave little tiny scars across my heart
Where did you go and where have you been
A love I no longer know

Broken Thoughts

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Amazon

Something Different…

Thoughts in My Head

When the world ends
There won’t be anything left to say we were here
But I’m sure somehow, some way
I’ll be staring at your face for all eternity
Your demon-like eyes and your poisonous thighs
Will all, but warm me by the fire
So cold I will still be, that none of this
Will ever seem like it truly exists
Trapped in a wake
Trapped in an illusion
It doesn’t need a name but
Most people call it hell
I can feel our newly developed spines
Piercing the skin, digging deeper
Your cold dead fingers latch onto my soul
I know now that you will never let go
I told myself it was okay at first
But now I wish I could cut and run
Trapped in my mind
Trapped in my head
Most people call it a nightmare
I’m left calling it home

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And Other Things From This Time…

Mountain of Questions

The white picket fences have been torn down
From the post to the ground
It all lays flat all around
The existence of dreams proves
There is something more to you and me
The clothes have all but come off
From our heads to our toes
They lay flat on the floor
The fact that we aren’t disgusted yet proves
There is something more to you and me
The marriage is all but gone
Divorce tore everything apart
Right the fuck out the ground
The anger between us proves
There is so much more to you and me

They say fire lead to life
Then what did love bring to the picture
Some could guess but the true answer is death
We pretend it’s funny because it is
You know it’s sad, but it’s the truth that hurts
If you hold your breath long enough then maybe
That dizzy, sickness feeling won’t go away
Walk it off, the pain subsides after a while
At some point, so I’ve been told
So I’ve been told for too long
If you know anything about bottles
You’ll know they don’t leave any answers
Only a mountain of questions

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Gasping for the Air that Surrounds Me…

Ark

The darkness surrounds me
As the rain falls down

Over the sky, blood drips down
Signaling only death
I hope you all drown
I hope someday you are found
Bleed me slowly and see
If I’m still alive
You all said I was crazy

Said I didn’t know anything
A child with adult eyes

The cuts they hurt
More in the beginning
Stones casted out, words with so much meaning
What was the point if not intended to hurt

Time has a way of healing broken wounds
Time has a way to make it go away
All of this all over again
Clairvoyant even in the womb
Because I know
I’ve always known
How all of this ends

Gather around, get to together
Pick and choose
But you should know
Not all of you
None of you will be
Here when it is all through
An endless time born to repeat
A drowning, a rebirth, a life destined to live
Born to be who we were always going to be
Keep destroying, keep hurting, keep doing it all
Free will was never a choice
Only a way of life
I never saved anything only kept it going
God spoke to me and I chose

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At Least That’s A Start…

The Drugs Aren’t Helping, Take Two A Day

Doing nothing drives the sanest insane
Bring me some new pain
I know I can take it
At all costs, it has to be this way
In the darkest holes I have found
I’ll be fine, wanted you to know
Dragging me through hell
This place I call home
Miss it more than I could know
Simple minded, stupid, what you will
I’ll survive, I’ll find a way to make it
Who I am, Who I’ve always been
Smiling and digging a grave
In your name I pray
You’ll never feel the way I do
I will always fail at this thing
Called life
I will always find a way
To embrace the things

I never wanted out of life

And Other Things From This Time…

Throat of the World

One day, evening
I thought about God
Relationships and relations too
Sitting in the clouds
Could we really be all there is to talk about
Poisons in the bloodstream
Drive us to do unthinkable things
Ripping our own skin from our bones
We dance around like fiends
Ever discovering our needful needs
I think about Christ
I think of passion
I believe in fire
The words escape me
Lodged in my heart
I’m always watching
Perched even higher
Standing at the threshold
Between heaven and hell

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The It And The Is… Broken Thoughts Vol. 2…

Now Available

The Next Exciting Volume in the Broken Thoughts Series is Now Available…

Now Packed with Even More Broken Thoughts… Poems… and Short Stories…

You Know for the Taste… *

This collection contains never before seen or read short stories not found any where… Including Strangers To Ourselves… A short story about one woman’s journey through hell and what she must do to survive… Also… included are classic short stories from the website… remixed… reedited… expanded… and somehow darker than ever before…

If you are a fan of everything found on the site… You are sure to love this unhinged… new collection from Layne Ambrose and Is That A Funeral?… Digital and Paperback available at Amazon and the Amazon Kindle Store…

Get Yours Today…

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*We do not recommend eating… consume with your eyes only…