Broken Thoughts…

The chambers of the heart
Keep pumping blood
Even if there is no will to go on
Patience but for what
A long waiting game for nothing at all
I carved one out
Only to give one up
Nothing feels natural anymore
A made up act
I call love
Doesn’t matter anymore where it comes from
If only my thoughts could match my actions

Stuck between times there is no outlet for my crimes…

Sat around today
Doesn’t mean anything
Thought I would share
My inner thoughts
Going through hell
Marching past the gates
Lakes of fire burning bodies made of shit
They are heard but with no real thought
Doesn’t rhyme at the end I don’t care
The Jesus freaks sing their hymns to me
As though it might help
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 is fine
Skin drapes the furniture
You know you are home
When everything is normal

It all seems so useless to struggle for…

Where ever, what ever the sun touches
A kingdom lost to you
A level never reach except for a few
Where ever, what ever makes them special
It wasn’t destined for you
Acceptance is the first step to something
Where ever, what ever the sun touches
A world taken from you
A step never reached except for a few
Where ever, what ever makes them happy
It wasn’t destined for you
Acceptance is the first step to something
Where ever, what ever the sun touches
Never belonged to them in the first place
Break the cycle or accept it for what it is
Where ever, what ever is up to you
The secret stolen from so many

Broken Thoughts

The theme for this week is greed… truly broken thoughts… always wanting more… more of something… more food… more money.. more sex… more pain… greed doesn’t go away with more… too much of a good thing is never enough…  considered one of the seven deadly sins… Greed is hard to escape on a day to day basis… who doesn’t want more?… what defines more?… at what point should we cut ourselves off from more?… I know I could always use more… more sleep usually… more of anything at this point… turns out I am human after all… was holding out for different… but I’ll settle for human… 

Merch… Teespring… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

What Has Been Done…

I noticed the way she looks at me again today. The look of a blank stare, but it is not a blank stare. It is as if she is trying to tell me something that words could never really say. I see it in her eyes. Those cold green eyes. They appear almost gray as though something is hidden in them. Ten years I have stared into these eyes. Ten years I have study these particular eyes. I have watched as she has gone from child to woman and it is as though nothing has ever changed. Ten years of failure. Ten years of silence. I’ve run every test possible up to this point. Everything in the book just to hear her speak. Electroshock therapy, two electrodes attached to her head and enough electrical current to wake the dead. Not a god damn peep. If it wasn’t for her pulse and her eyes, I would’ve ruled her dead years ago. I fought tooth and nail to keep her after she turned eighteen. The state told me she had served her time. I argued that she still needs to server more, but like this? Was it worth it?

Her crimes though not as extensive as the others leave a lot to the imagine nation as to why. Why a child would commit such a crime? A silent hour every week for ten years and I am not any closer to finding out the answer. Her eyes motionless as if she is trying to tell me something. Maybe it is a neurological condition? No, I’ve tested that and came up with nothing. She chooses not to say anything at all. Ten years and I have never heard her voice. Witness, the neighbors claim to have heard her scream awakening them from a dead sleep. A scream like a siren only to stop. Replaced with silence. Imagine my jealousy to these complete strangers. Her eyes tease me like a loaded gun. Her eyes so innocent, so green, could they really have comprehended what she had done? Could anyone?

Could anyone understand fully the act of killing their parents? Witness testified that she was often beaten. Appeared to have bruises, black eyes, cuts all over her body. Never enough to raise alarm, but enough to noticed. The scars though faint are still there. Proved to be self-inflicted. Even at such a young age. What all her parents had done to protect her from herself is lost to time, but what she did has been well documented. The simplest of them all murder. The more complex. The ones I want to know, to understand? Hidden behind those eyes.

How does a child carefully remove the skin of a person? Let alone their own parents? I know surgeons.  Doctors paid to be precise every day and every time. Even they do not understand how a child could be so methodic in one’s actions. A pile of skin laid on the floor as she began the real work, she had set out to do. As one police officer stated in their report, “The organs were laid out. Laid out on display like we had to do in basic training for our rifles. Laid there ready to be put back in if need be.” Their husk like bodies resting on the floor.  

No, a child could not understand what they have done? Or could they? None of it makes any sense. The answers I seek sits before me waiting to be discovered. No evil in sight only a blank stare. Yet she sits before me. A child capable of tearing apart her whole family. A child who shaped the bones of her parents to that of some kind of monster. A child who took the skin of her mother from the floor and wore it like a costume until the police arrived. What kind of evil truly lives behind those green eyes?

Valerie Hannigan

My eyes are brown just so you know and why the hell would anyone want to dress up like their mother? It is unsettling enough knowing that I am slowly becoming like her.

Broken Thoughts…

My hands are callus and soaked in blood
Quitting isn’t what it used to be
Walking away isn’t a train of thought
It’s an action that weighs more than itself
The words so heavy
They don’t come out right
Nothing comes out right anymore
Each thought is loaded with regret
Forced out by a will to keep going
God I fucking hate every God damn thing
Does that make sense or are we only confused
If I could I would but I couldn’t so I didn’t
Have too much responsibility now
Makes more sense if you know
I care more than I pretend to let on

Smile and act natural…

“The one with the Indian on it.”

“I think they prefer Native American.”

“I think they’d prefer if we gave them their land back. But in the meantime, the one with the cartoon Indian will do just fine.”

The lights all burned out…

Chasing our demons step by step
But how long do we keep doing this
To the end, to an end
A line has been drawn long before
Not another step to take and yet
See plenty of space to keep on going
Is this the end or only the begin of something
That couldn’t possibly be understood?
Gave more of myself then I’d like to admit
So I won’t and you’ll think I don’t give a shit
Because I don’t even when I do
Wanted more, wanted less, all I want is what I got
A feeling that can’t last forever but I’ll keep searching
So here’s to you, here’s to me, here’s to fucking everything
Resting in my head and what we can see through closed eyes

A fractured reality of what I have to deal with every day… stretched out over years… you think that I’m not listening… you believe me when I say that I am not… but really I’m taking it all in… absorbing every useless thought… stabbing myself with the idea that I am better than you… I’m more you than you will ever be me…  I’m nothing more than what time forgot… lurking in the shadows… standing next to you at every turn… don’t look because I’m staring… smile because I know I will… “Is there anything I can help you find?”… 

Merch… Teespring… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

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… Without Me…

I gave it all up for this?
These feelings don’t subside
These feelings grow deeper
Slip into the cracks of my broken heart
Give it another year
Give me a whole lifetime
Waste it once again
If I could do it over
So unsure if I would
Life gets easier with time
Because the will to live
Goes with it
Gave up my soul for something I don’t know
Want It back but I’m so unsure

.Worth barely more than worthless…

At this point, it might just be best to die
A world without me may be the best
Thing for you
Not going to stop until it’s all destroyed
I’ve got some shit to say
You bring out the best in me
Only reason you’re still breathing
You bring out the motivation in me
Only reason you’re still living

Turning all the lies into regret…

I can feel your eyes
Yet you’re not here
Feel your fingers tightening
Around my throat and I’m
Starting to, to think this is all okay
I’m starting to think I never had a say
Starting to believe all is not well
I could go on but by now
The point should be more than clear
Each breath you take is a knife
Every thought a bullet hole
Ripping through my body
Shatter, broken, set my body on fire
Leave me to die already
Can’t commit to something so sinister
Torture so much more humane
Sadistic and satisfying
My breathing becomes shallow
Your smile from ear to ear
If only, if only the world would disappear
My displeasure could go too
Still alive, has to be a reason
So fuck it, let it go
Before you kill me
Drown me in this world

Broken Thoughts

This weeks theme was work and society… society and work?… working on society?… working on myself in the realm of society?… I’m going to have to sit and think about this for a while… 

Merch… Teespring… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

There wasn’t enough blood in this post…

West End Love for All the East End Girls…

“So, are we doing this or what?” He asks me for the thirteenth time in the last five minutes. “We need to do this,” he reminds me once again. “We or you need to do this?” I ask barely looking away from my phone. “I’ll slap that thing right out of your hands,” he threatens. “I’m sure you will,” I sigh but I’m not putting away my phone. “Look you need to do this. You are in a rut,” he pauses rethinking his words. “No, you are stuck in some ditch in the middle of nothing town,” he declares. Should have thought harder I think to myself. “Well, I’m not stuck anywhere. I am choosing to be in the middle of nothing town because I want to be,” I let him know. “No one chooses to be in nothing town. Someone chooses it for them or they are there by happenstance,” he tries to recover. “Fun fact I am someone and this is where I have chosen to be,” I say in an abrupt tone signaling I am done with this conversation.

“Okay fine, I need this,” he concedes. “Now will you come with me?” I shake my head no.  “I need a second you know that,” he whines. “I’m not dragging my ass across town. I’m just not,” I proclaim once again. “I’m not shitting where I eat,” he admits. “Never stopped you before. I’m pretty sure your bathroom is right next to the dining area in that trash apartment,” I joke. But then I realize what this is really about. I have the nicer apartment. What a little snake, I think to myself. “Okay, you have me there. Correction I have shit too much where I eat. Is that better,” he smiles trying to get on my good side. “Didn’t we just go out the other night?” I ask deciding on a different way to get out of this other than pointing out I am better off than him. “Yeah, but you are single now. So, we can go out more. Maybe even twice a week,” he suggests. “Twice a week?” I ask my eyes growing wide. “That’s pushing it don’t you think?”

Before I know it I am driving his ass to the other side of town to haunt the usual spots. We don’t come here much anymore and for good reason. He tries to hand me a bottle from under his jacket. “Are you kidding me right now?” I ask pissed off. “Do you have any idea how many cops are staked out on this side of town,” I bark. “That’s what makes it even more fun,” he tells me before taking a swig. I shake my head as he puts the cap back on. “Just a little pre-gaming,” he smirks putting the bottle back in his inside jacket pocket. “You need to learn to find your center without alcohol,” I tell him. “Yes, Master,” he claps his hands together and lowers his head. Not amused I keep on driving and ignoring him. “I’m seeing a lot of ladies that should be having my baby,” he quotes excited behind the glass. If he wasn’t my only friend I wouldn’t hang out with him either.

“No one should be having any of your children ever, Jackson.” That is a fact for a lifetime. “It’s lyrics to a song. I don’t literally want a child, ever,” he rolls his eyes in annoyance at my lack of excitement for this evening. “Could you imagine?” He asks staring out the window. “I mean how does someone like me, like us, not literally carve the child right out of the womb?” He ponders into his reflection. His voice turning cold as it often does at times like these. “Could you imagine how boring it would be to wait for the thing to come out? Then have to actively try to keep it alive,” he shivers. “Plenty of our kind do it all the time,” I remind him. “Yeah, because they don’t know what they are,” he says turning to me. “I take it you have decided?” I ask looking over to him. “Yeah, I think I have,” he returns his gaze to the streets. “Let’s get ourselves a pregnant one,” he grins. His sinister smile reflecting back to him in the rolled up window.

Layne Ambrose

Something Different…

Together Until the End

The thoughts like suicide lose meaning
If done more than twice

Unable to find meaning in what’s been said
Never look back, keep plowing ahead
None of this will matter when we are all dead
Nuclear holocaust, burning until there is no resolve
Whoever said the cold war had ended is dead now
I’m telling you to have something to say
Not that anyone would listen anyway
Who am I, amongst the masses
Who am I, amongst the depressed fascists
There can be no voice of a generation
If everyone is shouting at the same time
How is it that the dumbest rise above us
How is it that we could be so blind
Falling for the same tricks time after time
Maybe in the end, there is no intelligent life after all
Stepping back into line, right on time
Maybe we deserve each other, deserve the graves we’ve dug
At least in this, we will finally be one
Rotting and bleeding, once and for all

Jesus… no question… why I don’t have any friends… maybe if I change my train of thought… I wouldn’t be so fucked?… old dogs only learn new tricks because they are hungry… I’m about as thirsty as a bridesmaid on wedding day… Any of this working for you?… trying to be anything other than myself… is going over as well… as a Brillo pad against the skin… steel wool sticking out of the scars… favorable reviews… tell me I am on to something… cleansing myself wasn’t much easier than I thought…

Merch… Teespring… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Beyond the End…

“Despite purified air, despite not going out for months, despite no human contact in over a year, and despite a diet balanced out to be everything that my body needs. I have become sick. I have become infected with something I have to silently suffer with. Alone and isolated I lost everything and yet I still managed to pack everything for this exact scenario. I have planned every possible outcome of everything. The architect of my own demise. How could I have been so careless? They warned me long ago but I didn’t listen. I didn’t think it was possible. Chasing darkness into the night. Should have known better. Should have been better than to question the idea of immorality. I dreamed of immorality but what is it really? It is nothing more than infinite knowledge and a never-ending legacy of pain and sorrow. Threw it all away. Should have let the idea of death take over. Would I be human then if I had?

I am well suited for immorality since anything that mattered died a long time ago. I’ve given up on the idea of humanity. Become more like God than I’d like to admit. I am as if I am immortal though only time will tell how long it will last. Time and days are a human idea. Immorality and life are God ideas, but where and what are you when stuck in between the crossroads of God and man? I can create and destroy anything I wish by shaping this reality. Shaping another’s reality. I am my own God and my own savior, but will I also be my own end? The question fills my heart with no answers. The isolation proves theories I thought were only myths. There is no God greater than the sun. There is nothing beyond the stars but more darkness. There is no true meaning of life beyond the end. Not when we can control it ourselves. I’ve unleashed the end of all things to come. Now is the time for me to enjoy the end. For we are our own damn God’s.”

“End of transmission,” the computer states. “But there is no body?” A solider questions. His uniform the same as the rest. “Then we have to assume he is still out there. We must find him. As long as he lives, he holds the power to end it all,” his superior says. “So, it is true then. He is the source. He is the God of all of us?” The young solider questions. “There is no God only the devil. This man is no architect of our creation or our end,” their leader barks. “He is nothing more than a virus. A sickness we have been trained and created to get rid of. We will find him and put a stop to all of this. Now let’s move out,” he orders. 

Valerie Hannigan

Broken Thoughts…

What is evolution if not a theory
An unbroken chain of stupidity
Weak ruling the strong
Telling them what’s right and how they’re wrong
My boss is an asshole yet I smile and nod
Who’s the dumb one after all?

A sour thought to think any of this will mean anything…

My thoughts bleed from open wounds
Cracked open holes stripped of innocence
Days gone, disappear with the time I’ve lost
Gave more than I regret to admit
At the time I thought it was worth it
Uneducated by educated ideas of unrealistic expectations
The world could have been made in a day
Lie flat with half a sphere for a top
The point is it doesn’t matter
The lies don’t have to make sense
They only have to work
Stupidity doesn’t care much for truth
The similes are similar in truth
Doesn’t matter shut the fuck up
Going home has never been as easy as before

Who knew I could be so ugly after all…

Lost all religion
Lost everything when you cried
Dragging myself through this hell
No longer recognize what I’ve become
It’s a long road traveled or not
Feel the pain of a thousand worlds
Carry with me every word ever said
Brain won’t shut up
Movies playing in my head
Everything that could have been
Memories of you faded in the background
How I wish I could
Change any of this
Once spoken, said forever
Only one way to end it all
Only one word that means anything

Broken Thoughts

If I could go back… I do it all again… same way as before… because no matter what happens… I’ll always be me…

Merch… Teespring… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter

Something Different…

Not Much Left To Say

Dress all in black to match my shadow
Fit into my skin, stretched out and hollow
Wash away my sins
When there’s no way left to win
Bleeding myself dry to exist
So tired of throwing the same old fit
Most days wish I did not exist
Suicide is pointless when no one gives a shit
The world works so unlike the mind
Lost in time, stuck in place
Who I am, Who I want to be
Sell my soul, nothing left to sell though
The devil makes deals than God must as well
No one, nothing safe from sin and corruption
Sex sells, cheaply given away, cast aside
Question everything ever presented to me
What am I worth if I’ve felt worthless along
Attacking my own mind, my own worst enemy
Hidden behind my eyes
Poisoning my own self to feel like the rest
Who needs a shepherd when we have ourselves
Conforming but don’t know what for
Too much shit on my mind and none of it matters at this time
Sixteen days, sixteen years what’s the difference
When it all slips away
I feel so naked without a place to go
Life in boxes, moving pictures with poor resolution
I wanted so much now there is so much left that I do not want
Contradictions become constricting
Venomous snake wrapped around my neck
The noose is alive and well as I begin to sweat
Sticky, sweet flesh of flesh
Bone to bone, I don’t think I have much left to lose
If I gave you enough reasons
Would all of this make any sense
Lost in the words
Lost in time
Space is an abstract thought
We all have to rationalize
This land is your land
Until I take it back
A worthless idea
Propagated by the demand
For something free

I know that it is Thursday… I know I’m supposed to talk out of my ass about some topic I barely understand or relate too… But I haven’t really been in the mood… sucks because there have been some pretty crazy topics as of late… Like how Facebook knows more about me than my own mother… honestly they might know more about me than I do… feel kind of bad for them… too bad they couldn’t take these broken feeling out of my mind… their recent ads at least tell me they are trying… With a Nailgun and a Few Boards… isn’t a half bad title for a book… haha… I kid… how am I supposed to put the last nail in?… not logical at all… oh well…

Then there are the school walkouts… good for them… wish we would have been smart enough to do that sooner… this next generation is something else… agree or disagree with their reasons… you have to admit… it takes a lot to make a stand… is there anything more American?… besides suppression?…

Teachers asking for more money… they deserve it… anyone willing to make our lives better… deserves more money… at least some food stamps… or free housing… something… I mean I am willing to do just about anything… but teach children?… maybe in hell… well my dark thoughts just washed away… life is good.. keep smiling… and give them some more damn money… 

Been going through a lot… that’s all that needs to be said about that really… I mean I’ve been busy trying to drown myself in my own tears… so far it hasn’t worked… fingers crossed… trying to cover the spectrum of life right now… not really sure when I will be getting myself out of this bathtub… What did you think I was using a glass to collect my tears?… I really need to get out of the house… or at least the bathroom… 

Merch… Teespring… Books… Amazon… Broken Thoughts… Twitter