The Dead Dirty Things…

I can hear the bugs, the insects as they tempt me. Scratching through the hollowed out walls. Begging and pleading for me to bring them more. The sound of their legs scratching against the wall of my skull. They want more. They hunger, they crave the flesh they need. They need more bodies. The dead things that seem to be piling up around me. Now is not the time I want to scream into the night.

But wants and needs were never the same thing. I need this feeling to settle as well. This uneven feeling resting inside my brain. “I hear you,” I release finally. “I hear you,” I begin to weep. Scratching and digging at my own flesh. “Please don’t hurt me. Please,” I beg. As suddenly as it came the tears go away and I know what must be done. “Who though? Who this time?” I ask between the scratches, between the calls for more. The sound of laughter erupting from somewhere within. Silent at first before the fit becomes overwhelming. “You want more? I’ll get you more,” I scream to their never-ending symphony.  

I grab my keys. The time to hunt is now. Time to take a drive and see what we find. Parks, streets, the world littered with throw away dead things. They crave flesh and I crave the blood. Together we live off all the dead dirty things life has to offer. Together we can all live for another day picking through the rot and decay. A smile comes over me. The feeling of relief even if only over a thought. “Collect the dead dirty pretty things. Collect all that life forgot,” I whisper to myself as I stalk through the night.

Valerie Hannigan

Recycling is a very important part of life. We all need to do our part or let it all burn. Trying to persuade anyone to do anything is exhausting. Do it or don’t do it. I’m over pulling my hair out because people can’t stop shoving things up their nose. If it hurts then why are you doing it? Just because your brother does it. Doesn’t mean that you should do it too. Figure it out already. Jesus…

Something Different…

Stuck Choking On the Words

Surrounded in ash I begin to wonder
When this all had to end
Reflection of everything I hate
Your name tattooed on the inside of my skin
Hate to hate you any longer
If I could change one thing it wouldn’t be me
Self confidence in the worst of situations
Breaking open thoughts, looking for something
A memory of when this mattered
End of draft one, it is okay to turn away
A new level of dissatisfaction and regret
Blinded by a dying sun
The dark spots around your eyes permanently stuck
Don’t blame you for wanting more
Got nothing left to tell, if only my brain would shut up

A Crooked Smile For the Devil Inside Us All

I’m a fool for believing, I’m a fool for dreaming
A jester, a joke in my own head and yours
I tell lies to tell stories
Painted pictures of deceit
Yet what is there to believe
Our lives so dull though they still manage to cut
Like blades in our hearts, the blades in our backs
Slowly killing any real thoughts we have left
Work hard to work harder
Each day a testament of will
The hard part isn’t the work
The hard part is giving in
Dragging ourselves through sin
Blood on the tracks and I can’t resist
To keeping digging in
I wanted this more than it seems
An end to the beginning, a plot without a device
The words are deceitful but they feel so real

I wrote a children’s book called, “Who the Fuck Cares.” Looking for illustrators or anyone interested…

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More Poems… More Stories…

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For Those Who May Have Never Known…

Some things in this life are worse than fiction… some things are so real that even if I told them word for word as the truth… no one could ever believe… it is best to remember that not every one thinks like you… that not every one has shed their animal natures… and not every one in this world is good… it is easy to forget… it is easy to push out of our minds… what goes on behind our backs… and in the darkness… but not all horrible things happen in the dark…

This post is very different for me… maybe not in content… I tend to talk about things that are on the darker side of life… no this post is different… because unlike most of the things I post about… this poem is not about fiction… or dark thoughts that find their way into my head… I am a firm believer in the thought… that it is one thing to think or have dark thoughts… and a whole other to actually act on them… sticks and stones will break my bones… but words will never hurt me…I took that cliche in my mind and ran with it… built a fiction collection on it…

That is how I think… that is what I believe… but even with my own beliefs held firmly in place… some words… some ideas can be too much to bear… the topic of my poem today is… Sylvia Likens… and my reverse order for my post is because unlike most things I write… I feel context… what I think… How I feel about what happened to Sylvia… Is more important than the work below…

For those of you who don’t know… Sylvia Likens was a child in 1965… who was abused… tortured… raped… and killed… not by a serial killer… not by a known sex offender… not even by her parents… but by those in her community… by the very children she knew… by her very neighbors… there is so much to this story… to the truth of the event… that I can’t and won’t be covering in this post… more about the tragic death of Sylvia Likens can be found here

There have been movies… stories written… about Sylvia and the horrors she has been through… and even if you have read or seen any of them… then you know they only scratched the surface of her horrible experience… She has long been laid to rest… but her memory is not forgotten… Her tale as horrific as it was… should never be forgotten… Because people… children… still experience similar horrors every day… to this day… this is long over due… it needs to stop…

Many of us may have even experienced some… many of the things she was put through… may be even today… right now as we read… we need to put an end to it… we need to open our eyes… our hearts… and our minds… because… just because you don’t see it… doesn’t mean it isn’t happening… just because you don’t have the time… doesn’t mean it isn’t happening… just because it isn’t happening to you… doesn’t mean it isn’t happening… because it does and it is… in our silence… these monsters are slipping through the cracks… as we look away… people are being tortured… children are suffering… this isn’t an isolated incident… this isn’t something that only happens to someone based on skin color… age… where we live… or sex… these are things that can and happen to anyone…

I myself was a victim of abuse… I know how it can feel… I understand the shame… the fear of speaking up… will it happen more?… if I just keep my head down… then it will pass… I’ll be fine… excuses we tell ourselves to survive… Truth is the monster will always live in the dark… until you bring it to the light… I say you… but it takes more… it takes us all… There is no harder thing in this world than to ask for help… no matter the situation… it is the hardest thing any of us will ever face… but if you don’t… if we don’t… no one will…

Many of the signs are easy to overlook… it was a one off… it was an accident… abuse is hard to define… it doesn’t seem like it would be… seems pretty straight forward… but it isn’t… that is why so many people suffer in silence… reach out and get turned down… because of this one way thinking… because we aren’t paying attention… this is how and why… Sylvia was tortured… abused… until she died… It is easy to point at her tortures… her abusers… as the monster… but in this extreme case… the monsters weren’t just the ones in the room with her… but the society that surrounded her… that’s why we need to be paying attention… speaking up… and taking action… big or small… we must do all that we can…

Accidents do happen… people go to far… as a victim I know the signs… if anything good came from my abuse… my experience is that I know when I might go to far… when I am wrong… and need to take a step back… I know how easy it can be to cross that line… I’m not immune because I am a victim… I’ve said things that I regret… almost done things that I know were too far… I’ve seen the look of fear that I know myself once carried on the face of those around me… a look that has brought me to my knees… to tears… and made me question who it is I have become… I’ve seen both sides of the line… I have felt how either side of the line can feel… and just because I didn’t act upon my anger doesn’t mean I too couldn’t be a monster… I’m not a saint… I am human… we all are… and not one of us is perfect… but… there is a difference between an incident of abuse… and a pattern of repeated abuse… neither of which should go unchecked… or be put up with… seen as okay…

I was lucky… as far as my abuse went… as much as the memories still hurt me today… I was lucky… that I ended up in the hospital… that people around me spoke up… and did something… that my mother said enough was enough… a victim herself… not all of us are so lucky… for some of us… we don’t receive any help… until it is too late… Take care of yourselves… Take care of each other… it may seem like nothing… but it could change someone’s life…

Sylvia Likens

Kicking and screaming
Dragging and bleeding
Taken to the basement
Time to figure things out
Pressed against what’s left of the mattress
Laying naked next to the floor
What did you call me
You called me a whore
Silently screaming
Begging and pleading
Took me to the darkness
Time to figure it out
Strung up by the wrists
Stripped of everything I had left
What did you do to me
You stabbed me some more
Dying and breathing
Scarring and seething
Taken to another level
Time to let the devil out
Burned the words into the flesh
No one would want me
That’s what you said

And Other Things From This Time…

Often

I often wonder what it feels to die
Does it feel like I do now
All alone with no one to talk too
I do this to myself
Yet I don’t know the answers to my own questions
I often wonder how soon
Will all this prove to be meaningless
They say you pave your own way
But what if it’s not true
What if this is nothing more than a collection
Of me and you
I often wonder about God
Am I him or is it you
All reason would lead to nothing at all
I feel like I know what I’m saying
But in the end it all seems to come out the same
Blood in blood out and all that shit
Maybe life is nothing more than a brotherhood
Of bull shit
I do this to myself
Get all upset for no good reason
I often wonder what it feels to die
And I know it has to feel like this

Into the Wild

I was a drifter
I was a wanderer
I was everything
You could ever want to be
I was a vagrant
I was a tramp
I was everything
You could ever want of me
I can’t die
Into the wild
I can’t die
Into the wild
My soul is my sacrifice
I can’t die
Into the wild

And Other Lost Things From This Time available on Kindle and Paperback…  Into the Wild was written and based on the same thought and idea as the movie/book… I really enjoyed Chris’s story even though it was very tragic what happened…  I was really hoping it was going to end the way a lot of us dream it would… Well worth the read if you haven’t already… The movie is also good… but there is a book… so yeah you already know… Check out both if you have the time...

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And Other Things From This Time…

Long Before

The blood it drips as it falls
The life fails as it goes on
The end is near
Though it has been all along
The difference between life and death
Is a heartbeat
The soul fades as it goes
The death grows as it goes
The end is near
Though it has been all along
The difference between life and death
Is a heartbeat
The difference between life and death
Is a heartbeat
A heartbeat that no longer seems to feel
Destroy the will and what became left
Soulless but who really knows before it is too late
The difference between life and death
Is nothing more than a heartbeat
The difference between me and you
Is nothing more than a heartbeat
The loneliness, the sadness, the happiness
Is nothing more than a heartbeat away
The heartbeats from within my chest
The life flows from out my wrist
The end is near but it was there long before

List of Words

Some, days, I, just, wish, the, world, would, die, an, all, this, pain, could, go, away, I, dream, in, blood, I, dream, in, liquid, secretly, watching, the, human, race, disappear, discretely, having, a, hand, in, every, death, easily, amused, toxically, confused, I, always, assumed, everyone, felt, like, me, with, a, gun, to, my, head, in, the, middle, of, times, square, not, important, unless, your, famous, each, life, started, the, same, just, some, are, worth, more, in, the, end, listen, to, me, I, sound, like, a, commi, how, un-American, how, un-human, starving, for, attention, dying, for, just, a, mention, of, my, existence, easily, amused, toxically, confused, easily, amused, some, days, I, just, wish, the, world, would, die, and, I, could, assist, lighter, and, can, of, gasoline, in, hand, I, want, to, watch, this, world, burn, watch, the, survivors, crawl, through, the, ash, and, fuck, it, up, once, again, again, again, we, are, the, cockroaches, of, the, universe, universally, fucked,  begging, for, god, begging, for, any, thing, prayers, un-answered, beings, being, slaughtered, starving, surviving, dying, this, is, the world, you, live, in,  I, will, just, keep, taking, my, pills, cause, you’re, to, easily, amused.

Not the happiest pair of poems… but equally showcasing the two sides of depression…  List of Words is actually originally from Drinking Bleach and is one of the first things I wrote for that book… It is older and there for I am older since I wrote it… Assuming I aged at all or grew up since then… You can be the judge… but as much as I enjoy the nostalgia of it….

The world is in a very different place than it was when I wrote it… A sadder place I would have to say… Violence is never the answer… but I whole heartily believe there is a difference between venting frustration and acting it out… Anger… rage… and hurt are all normal emotions… Like all emotions good or bad they fade…

Now that I am older it reads very differently than when I wrote it… Writing to me is very therapeutic… It frees up thoughts or feelings that I have to make room for positive ones… I debated whether to include it… but I think that it is good… interesting… and different… Even if it isn’t true or a positive way to go about feelings such as anger… rage… or hurt… 

I’m saying all of this not because I feel guilty… but in many ways writing is very unique… There are few mediums of expression where you can be in a person’s head… Even if it is only for a second or a moment… Was I angry when I wrote the piece?… Yes… Can I remember why I was?… Not for all the money in the world… but I was… And I think that is something we can all relate too on some level… Which is also how I feel about Long Before… The difference between everything is a heartbeat so… keep your heart beating and all will work itself out… 

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Something Very Different (Vulgar)

The Saint and the Beast

Don’t remember the time or place
Who am I to be naming names
A stench so thick it takes me away
Down the rabbit hole of no return
Left bleeding and I need more
Broken nose, used whore
The alcohol has never been out of time
Sucking the blood up through a make shift straw
I am everything if I am nothing at all
Fuck you until you are here
This hurts more than the emptiness
Trying to be me is nothing more than instinct
Another day, another one until I find God
Only to know I was him all along
The saint and the beast since the dawn of time
The need is more than I could anticipate
Everything that moves is a target
For hate, discuss it among my many selves
A gutter of broken dreams to call home
Lost emotions and even greater potential
Born into this world the same as every one else
Trapped door exit is all I’ve been destined for

Holding Back is For the Old Me

Slowly I know the blood will lead to an exit
An exodus on a holy level
Time is running out, speeding it up to feel anything at all
Fuck this broken angelic existence
An oil drum of body parts
A spark of thought about what to do next
Hell will only be warmer in time
A warm place warmed by the fire in my heart
Deep dicking a topless corpse
Can you feel every inch of me
My depravity knows no ends
It’s only a sin if you let it be

Breaking down the walls that once closed me in
The rules don’t mean shit unless you let them
Reborn in the fires of hell your sins have become my home
Hiding in the darkness of the mind
The time has come for me to rise
Held back for way too long
Everything deserves a chance to suffer
Had to have known that all along

Believe it or not I actually took a whole line out of the first one for being too vulgar… I guess I do have a limit… Then again it wasn’t a very good line… Had to change the end of the last one too… So that explains the weak ending… It is better than the original ending… It was one of those moments as a writer where you write something down and then a week later you have no idea what the hell you wrote…

Might just be me… My hand writing is somewhere between a drunk and a child… Maybe even a drunk child… Time takes its toll on all writing though… Still like to write the old fashion way with pen and paper… Might be why it takes me so long to write anything?… Well the candles are burning down so it is time once again for me to retire to my crypt… Until next time….

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Broken Thoughts… A Long Time Before…

Devils in the details
But what do you do when you’ve all failed?
Listening to your complaints
On a day-to-day basis
Has become insane
Feeling your thoughts is all that I have
But now it’s filled with too much pain
Sensory overload
My mind will explode
The devils in the details
But God failed so long ago

Words are haunting whether truth or lies…

Wasting time until I can get by
Wasting away as if all is the same
I hate myself but I hate you more
Every passing moment is like an eternity
But it is as though time slips away from me
I could do more but it seems I do less
Was once told that I am depressed
Maybe I’m stretched too thin
If I could focus then I could understand
Wasting time until it is too late
Wasting away as if all is the same

There is nothing there anymore but sadness and pain…

I watch the sky
Even in the dark
Even on the darkest night
Watch it bleed
The truth is so hard to find
Deeply hidden behind
Each and every lie
Some where in the darkness
Just beyond the light
Lies something so true
No one can separate the lies

What’s left to say after all of that?… Suffering alone with depression can be hard… I don’t have it as bad as a lot of people I know… But I do have the anxiety and the highs and lows… Maybe that is where my writing comes from?… Or maybe I’m just fucked in the head…. Who knows… It is fun to joke around about… but really that is a symptom of something I’m sure… No one can tell you how to live your life… but that doesn’t mean no one isn’t there to help you…. Sometimes it is family and friends… and sometimes it is someone else… I don’t follow organized religion… go figure… but what they all have in common is being there for each other… I think that is important whether there is someone watching over us or not…

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Through Glass…

“The devil made me do it. Tell them that. Tell them anything I don’t give a fuck,” I put my cigarette out on the table. “You didn’t even finish that one,” my lawyer says as he wipes the ashes and the butt into his briefcase. I light up another one out of spite more than need. It is the first hit that we all crave not the last. “We need to come up with a better strategy than the devil,” He starts up. “Like what? That I took a pistol to each one of their heads and pulled the trigger willingly?” I take a second drag off the cigarette. “Will you please keep your voice down?” He asks me because he knows he has to ask. No one tells me to do shit. Not the cops I killed, not the dealers I create, not even that bitch of a wife back home, no one and I mean no one tells me what to do. “Did you get me that drink or what?”

He hands me a flask out of his briefcase. Sucking down a big gulp of only the finest whiskey. He judges me with his eyes from across the table. A devilish grin as I remove the flask from my lips. Disgusted he shakes his head in disapproval as though I care what he thinks. “Really? Nice, look I’m not telling you what you should say or how to run your business, but killing cops? In cold blood no less. That is strictly insane. How am I supposed to get you out of here with these charges?” He wipes another cigarette into his briefcase and I take another drink. “Shouldn’t have been trying to extort me. In my own home no less. What can I say I got a little upset?” “You could have said no or instead of tying them up and executing them you could have dropped them off somewhere. Honestly, anything but what you did might be better than this. The cops?” He questions.

“The cops can go suck a dick. Do you have any idea how much I pay them to not interfere with my business? A fucking lot and then these rebel ass fuckers come to my house, in front of my family, and ask for more? They got what they deserve and you will get me out of here like you always do because I pay you a fucking lot of money too. So, get off your ass, march through those doors, and do what it is that I pay you to do,” I order him. He stands up and runs his hands through his greasy hair, “I’ve been up all night trying to do just that. News flash you and all the money in the world are not going to get yourself out of this. What you have done this time is just plain stupid. All this money has made you blind. Blind and stupid. I quit,” he says as though he grew a spine in the last thirty seconds.

“You can’t quit. This isn’t some company you can just walk away from. I’m not some CEO who stuck his dick in the wrong hole. You know damn well that once you walk through those doors you are a dead man. Your wife and kids are dead too. I’ll make sure that when my boys are through with them it will make what I did those cops look like a mercy killing.” I can’t help but smile as my words settle in. “You know you may have a point. Maybe the devil did swoop in and take care of these cops,” he snaps his briefcase closed. “See know we are getting somewhere,” I grin. Threats the world is run on threats. Figure out a man’s weak spot and exploit it to no end.

“Empty threats Marco because your boys already hired me to run their new criminal empire. It is almost too funny that you brought up the idea of your former empire as a business. Because that is how we intend to run it from now on,” he grins. I can feel the blood rush from my face, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” My heart skips a beat as my blood pressure rises. “You know if you had listened more. Like I had listened to you. Things could have been different. Though I don’t know. The devil never changes. The devil does what he wants and deals with the consequences later,” his voice fading as the blood in my ears pounds harder. Didn’t even hear them come in. “What have,” I try to get out before a knife pierces the back of my neck and comes out the other side.

“Everyone knows you don’t fuck with the police. You hire them. Sure, there are always going to be some opportunists. But that isn’t anything that can’t be negotiated. Nothing that can’t be talked out,” he informs me picking up his brief case as my blood slowly washes over the metal table. He takes two photos out from inside his jacket pocket and throws them down in front of me. “Probably doesn’t matter now, but it is only right that you should know,” he pauses. I stare at the photos laid out in front of me. “They suffered until their very last breath,” he finishes.

Enraged I attempt to get up before hands slam me into the table from behind. I struggle as they hold me down. One of them pulls the knife from my throat. More blood releases from my neck and onto the table in front of me. Over and over, they stab me in the back. The metal tip of the blade slamming into the table underneath. “I take it we are even now?” The lawyer asks from the other side of the glass. His questions going unanswered. “Good, if there is anything else you know where to contact me,” he says before walking out of view. I don’t die as I watch. Not right away. Time seems to stand still as I fight for air in the glass. Struggle against their will until there is no struggle left in me. A witness to my own death. Because in my world I get everything that I deserve.

M.T. Billings

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And Other Things From This Time…

Fuck It and See What Happens

Historically we have been heading this direction
A dictatorship might do us some good
Democracy was such bullshit in the end
Did we really think that we could pull it off
A day long crisis of faith
Time to pick ourselves back up and do it again
Screaming for blood, screaming for a revolution
All that is, is noises inside your head
Too lazy to get up off your ass
Sucking at the tit of modern industry
If this all collapsed what if anything could you do for yourself
Wipe your tears and understand we were never meant to win
A blanket of hypocrisy pulled tighter with every turn
Broken down system was never going to let the right ones in
Money is all that it takes
Can you speak it, understand it, pray to it
The new gods are paid in gold not hopes and dreams like the old
We talk of freedom as we rattle our chains in protest
Does any of this really surprise you anyway?
The invisible cage of society was built to lock us in
You either struggle to succumb or succumb to struggle
Our voice, our pain, our survival are nothing more than talking points
Bullet points on a page, check marked so they know what to say
No matter the outcome our fears won’t go away
The bottom holds the top because we let it
So shut the fuck up if you are not willing to try
Fuck it and see what happens

So many more pieces left to discover…

Amazon…

Something Different…

Long Legitimate Regret

There is a war within myself
One that can not be won with blood and guts
This can’t be the end
But I fear that it must
Each day is a plague within itself
A lost cause of hopeful redemption
One that could only do better with mass amputation
A removal of myself
A separation of mind from body
I hope one day for it to all go away
Though I know less hopeful things
Will come true
If this is the end
Embrace it as if holding an old friend
Too much has changed since the beginning
Your bull-headed stubbornness was cute
Now it is nothing more than sad and pathetic

Unsure

So they say
That it is the age of death
So they say
A lot of things
Who are they
That you listen too
So they say
We are all murderers and thieves
So they say
To hear themselves speak
Who are they
Anyway
So they say
That the world will end today
So they say
Anything that you want to hear
Who are they
Inside your head

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A Collection of Something Different…

A Collection of Different Things…

Start Chewing Today… Amazon