Beyond Insanity II (Shackled Through the Ground)

The devil shackled him to his arm,

and pulled him down through the ground

into hell.

Living in his head, 

won’t even leave him for dead,

he was forced to feed upon the flesh of the living.

Setting up meetings with people he found interesting,

invited them for dinner,

got to know them,

know everything about them,

before beating them to death with a shiny silver pipe. 

He would beat them,

again and again,

until they didn’t even bleed anymore,

that way;

making the meat more tender.

Then he would fetch his trusty kitchen knife,

which was in plain sight all along,

and start cutting up his victims.

The devil pulled the strings

as he forced his knife through the chest,

breaching the fortress that defended the heart.

The heart would give him power,

make him invincible.

He reached inside and ripped it out,

blood was squelching and his kitchen had turned into a swimming pool.

He juggled the heart and the lungs

and laughed raucously, 

manically, 

then dug his teeth into the center of the drying heart.  

The devil dug his claws through his back 

and pulled him down through the ground.

Why the beast chose this man to be his human puppet,

nobody will ever know,

we will never find out,

because the puppet

might not even be human at all.

The Letdown Hall of Fame

I was on my way up
when you came along
life suddenly decided to stop
as you dropped the bomb
now my ship is capsizing
and there’s a permanent scar on the inside of my brain.

So how does it feel
now that we’re down on our knees
crawling through the fallout of your infectious deceit?
In a falling world with nothing to gain
you just made first place in my letdown hall of fame.

You left us broken and in fear

in a house permeated with dead air.

Now we’re nothing but beggars on a crowded street,

ignored by the masses

as your family life burns to ashes. 

Surrounding yourself with friends that say what they assume you’d want to hear,

but if you knew what they were thinking you would probably shed a tear.

I hope you’re happy where you are now,

in your little bubble - your new found house of shame,

 coz you just made first place in my letdown hall of fame

To Be Human

She slammed her hooks into him without knowing.
He was captivated,
suddenly wide open
to new things.
He really wanted this to work so badly.
But having barely said more what an interesting character he was,
she had no idea how much that had meant for him.
From that day on he continued endlessly to send her messages,
flowers
and love.
He did not see that she wasn’t interested at all.
He failed to notice the sudden ironical tone in her voice when they spoke over the phone.
He missed the fact that she hardly responded to any of the messages,
or never put the flowers in water.
The tiny bit of interest he had awoken within her had faded by the end of the week.
And it was not until he found out she had a boyfriend that he understood.
His life suddenly looped and he pressed himself so far down he stopped eating.
He stopped going to school,
stopped speaking to people
and just hid in his room,
scheming.
Blinds pulled down over the window,
the only light in the room came from his cell phone.
He sat,
reassessing his situation.
What had gone so terribly wrong?
What had he done,
to not deserve a chance?
He came to the conclusion that whoever she was dating was better than him.
So he called the girl and asked if she could meet him for a quick talk in the park.
She agreed, reluctantly.
On the way out he opened his father’s safe and took the loaded gun inside and put it in his trousers.
The air was chilling,
but he wasn’t cold.
Only the streetlights lit up the park.
The two people met up,
they hugged,
and with the anger bubbling up inside him,
he pulled out the gun up in front of her
and shot himself in the head.

The Bittersweet Taste of Tears

I want to spin till I drop off the edge of the earth. 

Disappear for a while until someone remembers who I am

and what I stand for.

I want to work my way towards the end

and still know what’s coming.

I want to see my life on a timeline to determine when and where to dissect the details.

Put things back where they should be

and leave certain things untouched.

I want to set my flat line back in motion.

Beep, beep.

I need to know if there still is a heartbeat underneath this chainmail ribcage I seem to be wearing.

I rip my hair but I still can’t find the chip you planted in me.

I want to pick at my brain with tweezers to find the source

and kill the voice that keeps shouting your name 24/7.

I want to electrocute myself to see if I can hit the restart button;

the button that’ll take me back to ground zero.

I’ll be trying these things to prepare myself for the coming years

because at the moment:

all I can taste

is the bittersweet taste of tears.

Scarce Bravado

Brace yourself,

this crash will make the last five minutes of your life disappear;

like soaring through a waterfall.

Clawing the walls,

you were not meant at all,

to be here,

welcome to the fucking club.

You aren’t alone,

you’re never alone.

Talk to yourself,

look at yourself,

see yourself;

facedown in the sink,

what would your parents think?

Okay, so you don’t approve of the way you look,

but it doesn’t give you the right to vandalize your body like that.

Fight the temptation,

attempt to overthrow it.

You can do it, 

just avoid seeing what you want to be and see what you are in the window.

Ignore the fucked up knobheads who track you down and haunt you.

Ignore random comments from people who are so self obsessed they’d rather fuck themselves than anyone else.

If you know this,

you will become the superior being.

You will become the queen,

you will carry the whip,

and you will be the one cracking it. 

That Feeling II

You have a feeling at the back of your head

and you don’t know where to place it.

You search through your life but cannot find a source.

It has no parent.

So you suppress it into a little home at the back of your head

where you lock it away until the right moment comes.

Because you will know when you find what your orphan feeling is.

You will know,

because the orphan feeling is what defines you.

It represents your needs,

your desires,

what eventually makes you function.

It reflects what is most important to you.

Not right now.

Not what’s important right now,

but will be important later in life too.

Some people go through a lot to find their orphan feeling,

some let it come,

some neglect it

and some go crazy trying to figure it out.

But When you figure it out,

when you’ve found your orphan,

you will know,

it might change you – or your life

or it might not,

but it will make impact.

Because it is often the case

that when you find your orphan,

you find out who you really are.

I’ve found my orphan feeling.

Have you?

Sometimes Headaches Are Worse Than Broken Bones

My hands are dry 

but my palms are sweaty.

I’m breathing through a straw

to control my anxiety.

Where do I find myself in all this?

How do I know where I am?

When will I find the door?

To less of what we had too much of 

makes me ache for enough.

You said this boat was never meant to sink,

well then I ask you,

why are we knee deep in water?

Why are my ankles cold,

as we wade through their demoted emotions.

I think even the trees are telling us something wrong.

My eyes are soaking,

but my stare is dry

and my gaze is distant,

like searching for something that hasn’t existed yet.

Puffing away at your pipe,

you’ve seen the world change,

to worse.

You’ve experienced bombs and gas,

and survived,

but diving head first in the mist is about the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done.

So write a diary,

keep a trail

on what you do,

and why,

because when you come out of the door at the end

you might not remember,

who I am.

So I wish you a merry journey,

and send me a postcard every now and then

just to let me know I’m still in your head from time to time.

The Fray in the Silence

Look at me,

as I set fire to myself.

Watch me burn, 

there’s not enough gasoline in the world.

Watch me fly,

there’s not enough wind to hold me in the sky.

I feel my scars

begin to itch,

It’s as if they know I’m not alright,

so I curse and I scream

as I begin to scratch and twist.

Scrape away,

feed your dogs with the skin that came off your bones.

You watch me as I drop into the mud,

I feel I’m losing my place. 

Lost again,

I hear the souls calling my name,

fading out

fading in

I will find your history

and when I do,

I will feed you to the free. 

So kick the downed one more time,

let’s go dancing on the graves

of the ones

that meant the most

just to show them we’re still alive. 

Pain Before Belief

Time and time again,
sore heads
and imaginary codes.
Feeling shut out,
blown off,
fought down.
Fever’s rising,
no chance to get back up the ladder.
Lacking self-esteem,
feisty self indulgence,
carry the burden to the river.
Hit yourself with a rock and float away.

Horribly admitting the transparent truth,
the point of no return is getting closer.
We’re gonna hit it straight on,
headfirst
and this car has neither seatbelt nor airbag
so we’re going to smash our heads against the words.

Maybe this will make us come to terms with what is going on.

Maybe we see some things clearer than before.

Maybe we find our senses and figure this out

or maybe

we’ll just face the consequences for having stayed silent for so long. 

Chronicle of the Broken

So where to begin?

What we had is now shattered,

spread out on the floor in front of us,

like a puzzle.

We both feel the need to put the pieces back together,

we need to put the U and the S back together again.

But none of us dares.

No one makes a move.

We’re at a standstill.

I don’t know what to do.

I am torn between two different feelings.

One half of me wants you back whilst the other half doesn’t.

There is no telling yet which part of me is the stronger.

My feelings are twisted.

I want to get out there,

meet new people,

play about,

fuck around,

party.

But knowing I can’t hold you in my arms anymore is killing me.

I can’t kiss your throat,

I can’t whisper things in your ear.

And I don’t want to lose that.

It burns in my stomach when I realize that you will find someone new.

Someone you will do to him, what you did to me.

I’m bracing myself for the pain.

Frustration is the right word.

It describes it all.

I don’t want to keep you,

but I don’t want to lose you either.

I miss the little things you did,

your giggle,

your smile,

your face.

I miss the times we spent together,

watching movies,

and talking about random stuff.

I remember it was so easy making you laugh.

It was so easy to love you.

But now, 

we’re nothing but apart.

Our Hearts Are the Instruments in the Concert of Our Life

There are two bodies merging in perfect symmetry.

The heartbeats are at it in one symphony.

They are our instruments

and we are playing the perfect concert.

The feeling of completion is mutual,

pure, wonderful completion.

The minds of both bodies are at peace,

feeling so accurately 

the same thing

while listening to each other’s breaths.

I am all about the concert, drumming away behind our ribcages.

The kiss on my lips,

so passionate,

never before have I experienced such devotion to one touch.

It leaves butterflies in my stomach

and I feel my legs go weak.

I sit in front of you

paralyzed like always by your beauty,

the butterflies rampaging in my stomach.

And as I sit there in front of you

gazing into your eyes,

I realize;

I can lose myself

with you

and still feel

completely

 safe.

You Know What?

I would rather bend and risk breaking
than being unable to shape at all. 

The Antifreeze Theory

Some people believe their problems to be the biggest problems in the world

and therefore feel the need to tell as many people they can.

Some people chose only to confide in the ones they trust the most.

And some people just choose to bottle up.

They are the most dangerous.

They believe their problems are nothing but their own; 

and therefore avoiding contact because they think it’s not big enough to discuss.

This group of people are the ones we should look out for.

They hide it

and they hide it well.

If you walk past a person who seems perfectly happy,

with the biggest smile around,

it might very well be a cover up.

This particular person is probably the one carrying the most emotional baggage in the whole street.

Most of the things might seem pretty small from the outside, 

but for the person involved, 

it might be life or death.

Awareness is a bitch,

because you can seldom tell if someone is sad (if there aren’t any tears.)

That’s why the question “are you okay?” should be repeated twice if you suspect the person you’re asking might say “yes” with a slightly bigger smile than usual.

The key is to ask the right question, at the right time.

Not at once,

but you want to avoid the wrong question,

because pushing too hard too fast will end with the person retracting into his or her personal space,

locking you out. 

So if you see someone who you suspect might be having a bad day,

don’t be afraid to lend an extra shoulder,

or a slap on the back,

or a simple thought,

just anything to help a brother or sister getting through.

When Life Throws Grenades Your Way

Every big event in a person’s life forces one to stand in front of the mirror
and evaluate one’s self.
You learn new things and you see life from a different angle;
sometimes it’s for the better,
sometimes it’s for the worse,
but a change nonetheless
and if you don’t change
then you haven’t learnt anything.
It’s a progression where you see yourself on the other side of the mirror,
the other side of nowhere,
and see how you’ve grown.
But you should know
that the mirror doesn’t show you progress,
it only shows your face
and what happens in your life doesn’t change your appearance
only experience.

Unfortunatly,
I’m sorry to say that you can stop hoping for greener grass on the other side
because the sky is just as grey over there as it is over here.
When you’ve finally taken that step into the other side of nowhere,
you will be disappointed over how little you have changed
because you never will.
It’s an illusion,
it’s so easy to slip back into your former self
and human beings are an extemely comfortable race.

Realisation Time

Dear friend,
why do you think I stopped caring?
Why do you think I began looking the other way,
when you pleaded for attention,
begged for help?
Why do you think I pulled the final straw and said ‘end’?
Why do you think I left well enough alone?
I’ll tell you why.

You keep going on about the same shit all the time.
Every time I talk to you,
 you find a way to make the conversation take a turn to the back of your head,
into your nightmares.
I gave you advice,
I gave you attention,
I provided you with  the vital information about going round the situation
but you rejected them all.
You rejected the solution.
You rejected any ideas,
any given reasons
to how,
and to why
you need to do what you need to do.
But I keep hearing the same fucking things all the time,
and I have to switch off so as not to be subjected to hate.
But I was.
From the wrong side;
From your side.
You targeted me instead,
told me I let you down,
because I didn’t help you,
because I wasn’t there for you,
even though I was.

Well I’ll tell you something else, "friend".
I’m sick and tired of your bullshit.
I’m fed up with hearing you whine and bitch,
and say that you hate me
and then come crawling back with the shallowest of apologies.
Friend, It is high time you pulled your head out of your ass and realised;
Your tomorrow started yesterday,wake the fuck up.

Field of the Lost (Where I Belong)

There’s a field west of here
I pass it every day on my way to work.
It’s muddy, mossy and covered in crawling insects.
I see abandoned kids playing with broken toys,
a shaggy dog patiently sitting in the same spot day in and day out
waiting for his master to pick him up.
I see two cats,
huddling up for warmth and shelter against the shallow breeze.
I see a forgotten legend,
trying to figure out why the history books left him behind.
There’s an army of soldiers anticipating extraction that will never arrive.
There’s a homeless man pushing a trolley filled with cans which he has collected over the years
but never found a machine to put them in.
I see a prophecy gone unfulfilled,
an empty storage
and a pyramid the Egyptians are trying  to rebuild.

No grass has ever seen the light of day
as the sun never shines here.
It hasn’t lit up the area for twenty years.

It’s a miserable place full of empty promises and leftover conversations,
floating around in search of someone to belong to,
but the rope they are tied to is holding them down.

This is the field I see every day on my way to work.
A purgatory for dying dreams and dried out ambitions.
It’s the field of the lost
and that’s where I belong.

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Against the World With Nothing To Lose

The fire in the skies,

are telling me the world is more than pain and lies.

Are those fireflies?

Dear God I think I’m alive.

I swear,

if I look close enough I can see the sun set in her eyes.

That moment she touches me

is the moment I decide to keep going.

A frosty decision made from tenderness and frisky handshakes. 

She hugs like no one else,

a long, lingering embrace,

sending chills down my spine

and warmth to my cold soul.

It’s like I’m drunk without being intoxicated. 

One touch and she sends me flying to the moon 

then straight to the core of the earth

and back into my dull body

but now that you’ve touched my skin,

that you’ve looked at me

it feels like I could run a marathon.

But you and I are forbidden;

taboo.

If we start,

we’ll be hunted every second

every day. 

A breath will give us away

a laugh will set off the minefield

and we will burn like the wildfires in your eyes. 

We will be the mice,

they will be the cats,

with claws that cut us deeper than any knife.

They will flame us to the end of the world,

So take my hand

we’re in for a bumpy ride. 

the 'It'

It’s like walking barefoot in the grass,

falling into a pit of glass,

like fighting a pack of wolves,

like eating a newly baked cake,

like licking a snowflake off your lips,

like doing a belly-flop in the lake.

It’s when you decide to have a baby,

when you chose to abort it,

when you adopt a puppy,

and when you give it away.

It’s in the touch you need to complete the painting,

in the swing you make to force the golfball through the air.

It’s in the way the solders march forward,

the way they hold their rifles

and the way they celebrate.

It’s in the way the clouds cover the sun during the day

and the moon during the night.

It’s in the breath you take,

the move you make,

the chances you create

and the mistakes you taste.  

You’re forced to admit,

that 

it 

is 

everywhere

and will always be there

for as long as things keep breathing.

This Year's Blockbuster

You chewed me up and spat me out
picked me up
and threw me around,
now there’s only one thing left for you to do
take me down.

And I will be the grin
on every face
that hurts you.

I will be the cold
on your skin
when the winter comes.
I will be the burn
from the sun
when the summer arrives.

I will be the sky,
the air,
the ground
and the trees.

I will be the sneeze,
the tracker,
the animal that spreads the disease.

You might want to make sure you appreciate everything you have right now
before you step outside today.
Because I will be there,
in the shadows
and in the light.
Beware.