Broken Thoughts… Chutoro Dawn…

We once said yes
We once admitted that love exists
Upon a time there was a me and you
Sixteen counts of murder
Forty five different sins
Had to come down to this at some point
Flashing moments that this could last
Fleeting idea that there was more to this
Upon a time, upon a burning body
Staring into each others eyes
Seventeen counts of murder
Forty six different sins
Had to be a reason this went on for so long
Young love seems so irresponsible
Lust only a reason to drive us on
Upon a time, upon your naked body
The blood drips and the love dies
Eighteen counts of murder
Forty seven different sins
Me and you until the very end

It was like praying to God while the devil stands by your side… 

Standing in the darkness
Staring right through it
Your body lies in pieces
A work of art 
Made of flesh and blood
Hacked off all the limbs
To prove a point
The darkness consumes me
I have to admit
I’m starting to like this
Laughing through the pain
Laughing right through it
Your agony was therapeutic
Chaotic and to the point
Getting right down to the core of it
I’m starting to understand who I really am

We get lost in all these stupid fucking words… 

With marked bullets piercing my chest
There can be no rest

The wicked have fallen to the saints of all things
The lie spread through religion
The lie living within us all
Flames rise up, surrounded by a wall of fire
Breaths become shallow, inhaling the flames
Devil broken, beaten, and gone
The evil lies within
The evil consumes the meek
Massacre in the streets
Blood rises with the tide
Full moon catharsis
Pray for lies to become truth
Pray for soul
All you know locked in a book of lies
Locked away deep in your mind

Broken Thoughts

Broken Thoughts…

We try to recreate things from memory
From feeling, never the same in our heads
Misquoting everything in sight
So we begin this story of deceit
From within, from the soul
Need you to relate even if it is only
To prove a point
Selfishness runs deep
Ignorance so much deeper
Diseased and seeking some sort of care
The depression is so much worse with them
Broken and needing something more
So blind to everyone else’s needs

Turns out I traded one mask for another after all…

Your death rattle escape
Won’t shake all the demons free
Still lurking in the darkness
We’ve been waiting a long time
We’ll keep waiting with all the patience
Of a saint, a devil in disguise
Wings made of bone and tarred on feathers
We know pain above anything else
We’ve known its caress since the dawn of time

Always on the fence… I’m always on the fence…

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 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

Broken Thoughts

Lets keep this odd train a rolling… was on my way to work today when an odd thought came across my mind… civil services is the only job where it is okay to be an asshole to the ones that pay you… the only job where it is an actual possibility that you could beat your employer too much… if I even raised a fist to someone I work with I would be fired instantly… yet a cop could hit you with a baton and as long as you seemed like you were resisting… perfectly legal… if I’m not careful how I talked to someone at work… it would cost me my job… but a judge could and can talk down to you… they can literally judge you… and they are applauded for it… basically I got in the wrong line of work… 

Could you imagine for a moment though… if these things were reversed… sure it could suck… take the suck out for a moment… but things might actually be more efficient… if people actually thought something could happen to them… sure we still speed… we still break the law… but many of us don’t for fear that a baton might come across our face… or we could get shot… but at my work at least… many of them have the attitude I get paid either way… or as one of my fellow “Hard Workers” said to me… “Why are you organizing? It is only going to get messed up again”… (insert I may kill you face)… I wonder why that might be?… 

I don’t know… only a broken thought that I stumbled across… 

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

All I Feel Is Pain…

All I Feel is Pain

Memories are nothing more than random bits of information processed at varies speeds. This is how I remember my childhood. It comes back to me in pieces as my head slams back into the ground. Lift and repeat. Lather, rinse, and dry. Blood runs throughout your body providing oxygen and nutrients to every cell. When blood gets into your eyes it provides nothing at all. Nothing more than pain. How does someone end up reliving all their horrible childhood memories on the cold pavement? I’m not really all that sure anymore.

Where did I go wrong? Politian’s, health-conscious assholes, leftist fascists would say it was when I smoked my first cigarette. Signed a one-way ticket to hell by today’s standards. God, would I kill for one right now. Just to feel the smoke hit the back of my throat and shoot down into my lungs would make all of this a little bit more bearable. I wonder what heroin would be like in this scenario. I wonder what food will taste like as my teeth fall to the ground. Will anything ever taste the same again or will it always taste like blood? I don’t think the iron, rust like taste will never leave my mouth. I always speak my mind maybe that’s how I ended up here. The more my head hits the ground the more I forget. In the end all we have are our memories. The good ones and the bad ones. Our memories are all we have. For some reason, the only memory that keeps popping up is the time I learned to tie my shoes. Maybe because when all is said and down here. I’ll never be able to do that again. Funny how after all of this something so significant won’t even matter. Too defiant anyway. Never really learned to tie my shoes. Found a way, but not the way I was taught. The memory still comes breaking through.

My stepmother left me in a chair all day with the same story that I could get up if I tied them the dumbass way, she showed me. With the bunny ears or something. The instructions are still lost on me, but the torture is clear. “If you tie your shoes we can go to the beach.” I used to love the beach. I used to love a lot of things. Too bad we were in the middle of fuck all Indiana where there is no such thing. She paraded around in a bathing suit and beach bag as if we would leave as soon as I miracle my shoes lace together. What kind of sick fuck does that to a child? The company you keep, I guess. Too defiant maybe that is how I ended up where I am. Too strong-willed and stubborn to tie my shoes. To listen to anyone else.

My head hurts so much that my face has gone numb. I’ve been trying to pick myself up, but my head feels as though it weighs too much. Leaning into the punches is didn’t helping any. I say lean but it is more of a sway. Confused by what it is I am even doing.  I’ve got nothing left. Everything I had was all used up before I even got here. A teacher once told me that you come into this world with nothing and you leave it with nothing. I can see her old wrinkled out face mouthing the words, but the world has gone silent. Gone away into the distance that is my existence. She was full of shit. You come into this world screaming and you leave it with pain. The constant that doesn’t let you forget. Can’t change much when your life flashes in and out of focus.

Can’t change much when you know you are going to die. Can’t take away the things that you have done as the last breath leaves. Can’t forget the time that you pissed on the street corner as the neighbor’s daughter watched. Can’t take back the punishment. The belt that struck over and over again. Not even the truth can set you free after it is all said and done. That she wanted you too. No, you are only left with the memories of a childhood you wish you could forget. Can’t change the time you climbed a tree you were told not to climb. Ended up in the hospital for not listening on that one. Should have stayed in the tree. Why didn’t I just stay in the tree? Can’t change the time you got a girl pregnant and waited in the abortion clinic waiting room. Scarred out of your mind, sad for the life you wasted, and too young to realize they are one in the same. No, none of that will ever change. Time can’t change after it is already past. Time can’t change after you’re dead. Your impressions, actions stay with those you’ve affected long after your gone. Actions speak louder than words yet the words of those around you in circle your every thought.

Don’t do this, do that, why do you got to be such a little shit, clean up your room already, have you been drinking, this is for your own good, tell me what happened, happy birthday, please take the dog out, win some and you lose some, thou shall not kill, I hate you, why couldn’t you have been better, clean your face, you disgust me, this is what you deserve, I love you. Some good and some bad they all flood in as if they should mean something, but they don’t. Is now really the time to reflect on all of this? Maybe I just wanted freedom. Maybe it was only love. Maybe it was both. I don’t know what anyone could ever want out of a world like this.

For some reason, they have stopped. Could be because I’ve stopped fighting? Maybe because they know it is already done? I can feel a smile come across my face as the hits start back up. Their anger in this world somehow more intense than my own. I want to laugh, but do I dare? I can still feel as though that all of this is some kind of prize at the end of a long game. The words aren’t clear in my head anymore. Here and gone. Trapped and freed. I feel cold yet warm. But all I really feel is pain.

Layne Ambrose

Something Different…

Before

In death we find peace
But what about the rest
What about here and now
Tranquility in sin
Blood for passion
Passion for blood
Drinking until you don’t remember
Forgetting all the times before
Do it once more
Over and over a repeating
Kaleidoscope of bullshit
Heard it all before
Excuses becoming useless
Yet I still have more
My condition is human
But why does it feel so
So, painful and relentless
In death we find peace
In death we find whatever it is
We never had before

Still digging at the past… a past way I once felt every day… living in the middle of a depression storm can be… well depressing… some of us have it worse than others… each of us has to find our answer… but no matter how bad it ever gets know that there is always an answer… there is always hope… we are only here on this planet for one thing… make it to the next day… no day will ever be perfect… you will never get everything you ever wanted… but if we try hard enough we can get most of it… we can have perfect memories… 

Also, I’m not 28 anymore… wish I was… : ( … growing old sucks… enjoy every moment… good or bad… not all of them will be here for long… it goes fast… it is easy to get stuck on an idea… on a feeling… and it can take everything we have to break away from it… we’ve all been there… if there is anything I have learned since starting this website… it is that we have all been there… 

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

Let’s Fake An Answer For the Curious..

These Days

The days bleed together
How it is or how it always was?
Questions, answers, sin, justification
The days bleed together
These days stick together
How it is or how I’ve always wanted it to be?
Liar, truth, asshole, cunt
The days seem meaningless
When you are around
Bleeding, blending, living, dying
The days are all there seems to be
The days with only you and me
Then there are the days in between
Haunting nightmares, self destruction
I’m not so depressed when you are around
I’m not myself when we are apart
The words seem to mean more than how I feel
How it is or how it always was?
Questions, answers, sin, justification
These days bleed together
The longer this day goes
The less I seem to have left in me

Success and failure… the mark that we live our lives by… shit on a stick it doesn’t matter… this life… this world isn’t measured in accomplishment… what we do doesn’t matter to the masses… it might only mean something to one person… one among nearly eight billion and counting… could make the difference… we have to be here for one and another… because what the fuck else are we going to do?… 

Sounds fucking crazy… in this together?… who the fuck is there when I’m sad?… no one… think again… I am… others are… sometimes you have to look further than three feet around us… sometimes we aren’t in arms lengths… but we are here… What I mean is… don’t give up… embrace your gifts… embrace your failures… living life is all we got… so you are a fish that can’t climb a tree… oh well… look for the ocean and set yourself free… won’t be easy… but what part of this life ever was?…

Believe me when I say you will fail… believe me when I say there will be set backs… what that means is up to you… it was never up to me or anyone for that matter… embrace the fail… embrace the pain… grow to be better than anyone could ever believe…. will it hurt… yes… will it suck… you best believe… in the darkest hole… the darkest time… the darkest moment… we grow our fucking wings…. So keep swinging…. keep trying… and if I’m wrong… if it doesn’t work out… know that at least you tried… trying is what it is all about… trying is all that we need… prove those unable to even try that they are wrong…. flap those wings and lets ride… 

“Who needs a reason when there is a why.”
Clayton Blackwood, Teeth Like God’s

Broken Reality…

This is something I would only say to my best friend, but since that is you and since you aren’t you anymore. I have to feel. I have to live as though I am alone. I see you every day. Walking by me as if this is all normal. Walking by me like everything is okay. The hardest part wasn’t what happened. Yes, that was a lot of shit to just take in. The hardest part. The thing I can’t say to you or talk about with you. Has everything to do with you and nothing to do with you. It’s why I can only say it to my best friend, someone I trust, and not whatever this is. The hardest part of all of this. Is going from thinking I’m spending the rest of my life with this one person to I hope I never have to see them again. Seeing you every day is a constant reminder of these feelings that won’t go away. Pretending to smile feels like a thousand knives. Lying when you ask what’s wrong feels like another part of me is dying.

None of this matters. All words that can’t be said. That don’t need to be said. All words locked inside my head. Replaying them over and over again.

The ashes they burn
The hell I have created heats up
Something needs to happen
None of the answers are acceptable
The tears as real as the pain
Forever escaping me, not an option
Your opinion on the events
Broken train of thought
Broken life I have to live
Shattered into nothing
Left chewing on what’s left
What is left when all hope is gone?
A long time coming, slow-moving
Slow to act, now left with the damned
The truth will set you free
The truth will leave you in a shallow grave
Life is a waste, built on past mistakes
Far worse than death, a sentence pierced into my head
If only I could think of anything else
Anything beyond the nothingness
So lost that it hurts
When you think this could be the best
When you think this could be the worst
Hold tight, the undertow is only a thing
Until it takes a hold
Drags you deeper and deeper
Open your eyes
Then you can see, clearly, this is all there ever was for you
Pain

This is going to be a long month… a long lifetime…purging myself of all this shit… figuring out who I am again… rebuilding a broken corpse of a man once again…  been keeping busy… okay… I have been busy staring at a wall… feeling sorry for myself… hopefully, that will all be done soon… in the meantime… prepare for a lot of heartbreak… 

Until next time… take care… and remember nothing is forever… so enjoy it… whatever it is… while it lasts… 

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

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