Chained To The Floor… By My Own Will…

If I Only Knew

The panic begins as the thought creeps in
My own heartbeat driving everything
I’m so lost against the sound
I don’t even exist anymore
The feelings I once had I don’t have any more
I see myself slipping down further than I ever thought
Chained to the floor
By my own will
A deep dark hole carved into a home
If I only knew, how could I have known
Always give myself one more day
This life is the longest day I will ever know
And starting tomorrow I’ll only have to let go
My fears are only the will to live
If only I knew, If only I had known
My fears would fade away as the day goes on
Existence an excuse to peel myself from the floor
Depression pressed against the skin
If only I knew, If only I had known
Not sure I would have gone on this long
The voices don’t go away they only get louder
Against the heartbeat of what I have to say
If I only knew, How could I have ever known
This would have all become my home
A grave dug from my soul
Told myself I wouldn’t
Not sure I know the difference anymore

Advertisement

Dictating An Existence That Doesn’t Exist… Call It Life…

Holiday In The Unknown

Waiting for your words
Waiting for anything
I’ve become bored
Staring at a wall isn’t for me
Thoughts come seeping back in

How I wish I was dead
That life is meaningless

They don’t mean much said only once
Over and over until they won’t leave my head?

How I wish I was dead
That life is meaningless

Distracted for a time
Thought the thoughts had left
I’ve always been wrong
This only proves it
Suffocating under the weight
Of a feeling I can’t escape

How I wish I was dead
That life is meaningless

Reminding me how not to forget
Over and over again

How I wish I was dead
That life is meaningless

Waiting for your words
Waiting for anything
I’ve become bored
Don’t think I’ll ever change
Thoughts never left me
Only distracted for a time

Reading all that they have to say
How I wish I was dead
This life is so meaningless

 

Broken Thoughts… Breaking Down The Forever Circus…

The sadness sinks in
A world with no reason
Broken hearted, left wondering
How much time is left 
To destroy

The truth is more than I can describe…

Drinking a death wish left to employ
I’d take you all if it means happiness
Selfish, I’ve always known why
So much easier to take away
Then live this shit day to day
Still hanging on anyway
Raise my glass we’re in this together now
Happiness has always been nothing more than
A thought

Who I am with no reason why?…

Emotions come and go away
Words are easy to say
Live?, another question to be asked
Who was I in all this madness
Miss you more than I forgot
They say so many things
They lie to tell the truth
What’s the reason, no reason why
Call it life, call it what you will
Doesn’t matter, how it is to die
Words spell out my life
Words say so much and then we die
Choking on so many things
The mind keeps going
An empty feeling of nothingness
Wasted gift, no one has ever listened
Swing and thinking
None of this even matters

“Life doesn’t make sense. Madness? Well… you tell me.”
Cooper Jones, No One Ever Said This Was Free

Broken Thoughts

By A Thread…

Hanging Me By The Knees

Too broken to process any new thoughts
Need to move out and build an ark
A sign from God came in
It said a paragraph worth of shit
Basically I fucked this up a long time ago
Riding this one out until the end
Maybe, maybe if I’m lucky
They will only hang me by the knees
Using my head as a pinata full of disease
Question then becomes
Would I even know the difference?
The answer seems so obvious because it isn’t
What anyone would give to not feel like me
What I’d do to not be me doesn’t seem all that bad
Another sign from God came in today
Said quit your bitching and do something already
Obviously, I’m paraphrasing

Into the Flames of Where This Began…

Into the Flames of Where This Began

“Tell me about God,” she demands in a scream. “Tell me about power and life and the will of man. Tell me about everything I already know. Everything I already am,” she screams with all the air in her lungs. We took everything from her and now she wants to return the favor. “Why?” Is all I can manage to say through the pain. “Why not?” She asks curiously back. A break from all the pain that she is feeling. All the pain she is pushing onto me. My mind finally doesn’t feel as though it is on fire. “Why not talk now? That’s all anyone wanted to do before, and now everyone wants to just go quiet. Is it because you all figured out just how powerful I truly am?” The bodies of our once mutual friends lay next to my feet. “Everyone thinks, everyone thought I was so weak. That little miss me with her fragile bones could do nothing. I’m powerful, in a world full of powers I am the most powerful and that makes you scared. It makes all of you scared,” she stares me down waiting for a response. “So, you have proven. You’ve proven your point Emily. Now let’s end this. This isn’t you. This isn’t how we were trained,” My voice goes silent.

Her eyes light up in anger, “Trained?” The pain comes back once again. The feeling of fire running through my veins, through my mind, and through my very being. “I wasn’t trained. I was left behind or have you forgotten?” She asks through the pain. “I never forgot you,” I try my best to say through the pain. “Wrong Nathan, you are wrong. You all forgot about me. Even you. You all left me behind,” she says. The fire inside my head increases, “Because we cared.” I fade in and out of consciousness as my knees hit the hard ground. “Please stop,” I barely manage to beg. “Stop what? Being the woman that you fear? I could have been so much more, but you and every one of them wouldn’t let me. You wanted me to be quiet, to be locked away, but I will no longer be locked away Nathan,” she says with the confidence of a God. “I never,” I try to say. “But you did any way,” she declares as everything around me fades into darkness. “I never wanted any of this,” I try to say through the darkness of my mind. The lost connection of my consciousness. Am I alive or dead? “Welcome to my world,” her voice echoing through my head. Through the pain. Through it all.

Through a haze of confusion I awake in an empty field next to those I once could call friends. Their bodies lay broken, bleeding, and lifeless next to me. I use every ounce of strength to bring my own broken body to its knees. The ground around us is torn to shreds. Pieces of earth lay in mounds all around us leaving a trail of where she has been and where she has gone. I rise to my feet and check those around me. Only to find the worst of what I could have expected. Laying there dead I am the only one to have survived what I assume will be the first of many more causalities to come.

Why? Why did she spare me of them all? Because she broke into my mind and found out I was right? Was it pure luck? Courage is measured by our willingness to throw ourselves back in the fire. Not by our ability to survive. As I stand among the dead I don’t find the courage to run back into the fire. Maybe she was right. Maybe we deserved this all along. We had to have known deep down inside that this was only going to go one way. Did we protect her out of fear or did we do it out of compassion? Her power set wasn’t like ours. It wasn’t controllable like ours. It wasn’t our call to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. We never gave her the choice. We only suppressed what we didn’t know. Painted ourselves the heroes when we were the villains all along. What I must do is not courageous. It is not the right side of right. What I have to do is finish what we should have done in the first place. God’s cannot walk among us. Unchecked they will destroy everything that we have built for ourselves. Kicking what is left of the earth around me I take the steps need to move closer to the fire. Running blindly once again into the flames for the idea of right and the pursuit of all that is wrong. I must finish what we already started.

Layne Ambrose

Some times our actions cause more harm than good… sometimes being “right” really means that we are wrong… so what is the right answer?… To continue to be wrong?… or prove to ourselves and everyone else that we were right all along?… these are the actions and thoughts that we face all the time… The surface is only worth face value… and our actions… our choices… often dig deeper than the surface… not telling you how to think… only that you should…

Because there is no answer… there is no right way to be… there is no set of rules for us to follow… because the world is chaos… but it is up to us to provide the order… to define or redefine it… no one will do it for us… Order breeds chaos and chaos breeds order… it is somewhere in between that we survive…

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

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

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

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

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…

Always Going To Wonder

“Do you ever think about reincarnation?”

“In what sense?”

“Maybe we are the reincarnation of our ancestors. So, really we are only living our lives over and over like a messed-up version of purgatory.”

“That would mean there is only a set number of people in existence I’m not even sure how that would work. Given that the number of people on the planet isn’t a constant.”

“Maybe more people are just getting a chance to live?”

“Sure, I guess but why? Why now is God or whatever allowing more people to live?”

“Because things are better than they were?”

“Are they though? If anything, things are only worse and getting worse,” she points out. The silence between them comes flooding back in. “What if you never have kids or can’t? What then your family line ends?”

“Then your family line ends I guess.”

“Okay, where do the extra people come from if there is only a set number of us to jump back in?”

“I don’t know. Okay let’s say that if your family line ends then you join another family somewhere else and start over. That could be where the idea of soul mates comes from. They are looking to find their lost family.”

“I think that the idea of soul mates is dumb enough on its own let alone to be part of your crazy theory.  Honestly it seems like you are pulling this whole thing out of your ass.”

“A theory by any other name,” a long pause. “Okay, but I’m just saying it could be part of it. It doesn’t have to be the end all be all of life, but it could be. Would explain our inherit need to multiply. Each birth is another chance bring someone back to life.”

“What if you die as a child? How is that fair? Within your theory they didn’t get to enjoy a full life or search for their soul mate. They barely got a chance to do anything. What happens to them then?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You brought it up and now we have to talk about it. I know you are thinking about it.”

“I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“Where else could your theory have come from?”

“I’ll admit it was strange that we tried for so long and it wasn’t until my grandmother passed that our daughter was born. I was thinking about that.”

“So, you think that our daughter contained the soul of your dead grandmother?”

“Well, I don’t think this I’ve only just thought of this because you asked.”

“If our daughter was your grandmother than why?” She pauses trying to keep it together. “Why isn’t she here anymore? She never did anything wrong or hurtful to anyone. Why wasn’t she given more time?”

“I don’t know.”

Valerie Hannigan

For me this is fiction. I have never lost a child, but I can’t say that I have never thought about it. I can’t say that it isn’t a fear either. When I started the story, I wasn’t even thinking about it. Probably had ten million other thoughts on my mind. As my children screamed that they wanted more juice, more food, more of my time, and more of my patience. Then the idea of reincarnation and coming back as something else came into my mind. I’m not sure why, but the desire to be anything else became overwhelming. That is what I wanted to explore.

Maybe, I will go back and explore that idea some other time. Sometimes though we start off wanting to write about one thing and the story takes us someplace else. Some places darker than even we would like. I thought about going into more details and really driving the point home, but I’m not really sure I wanted to go there. Not today at least. I also wanted to push myself to write a story that didn’t contain a setting or a reason for existing. Ambrose calls these passing moment stories. Stories or ideas that are interesting, but don’t go anywhere further.

Writing for the internet is much different than writing for other media. It is about right here right now. Cut to the heart and throw away the rest. I can’t say that I enjoy it more or less. This style is not my preferred way of getting an idea across. I’ll probably never write a story in this format again. With that I am happy with the way it turned out. The story said what it needed to say and so did I.

When She Finishes a Book… We Will Promote It…

Fuck off.

Until Then We Do Have Other Things…

Nothing with my name on it.

Check Them Out Here and Here

I refuse to be ignored.