You're So Cringe

I've already proven I don't care about being tough

I never want to have to prove it again

Don't play my music

As your own 

You suck

And I hate your voice

Don't quit your day-job

You illiterate fuck

You're

So

Cringe

You call yourself punk-rock?

Posers and old farty fucks in baggy pants

You're a middle manager at some office in Downtown L.A.

Cause you suck ass and could never be independent and punk

Get rid of your old band shirts and get some khakis

Sell your guitar and pay your rent on time

For once 

That's what you did

And called it growing up 

You absolute Waffle-Brain

You're

So

Cringe

You probably live in a suburb

And suck cocks for fun

While saying it's wrong

 

You burn Bibles

And also tried being anti-semetic

Until you found out your colleague is half Jewish

Now you're in a room with H.R. 

 

Your worst worst nightmare is a Quran

Even though you love praying to someone in office

 

Punks are LGBQT and Democrat

 

You're really fucked up

And need therapy

You definitely don't need voting privileges 

 

You're So Cringe.

Found You

You bring me a comfortable joy,

A spirited peace in the journey of life.


How I try to tell you every night "I love you",

And then "sweet dreams" before we go to bed.

Together.

 

I enjoy you in the morning.

Of our morning kisses.

That I enjoy so much.



We pillow-talk of having dogs in our future home.

Your little dog that you want warms your heart,

And me with my silly 101 Dalmatians dreams.



You love every song.

You talk about getting it as a tattoo.

And I love holding hands while we listen,

To the radio.

While holding hands while looking up into the sky at night,

We are alone but together with the stars.

The skies seeing our bond.

How our hugs are so long, yet never long enough.

You let me in on your weirdness.

Very few get to see and believe.

I believe in you.

Follow your dreams. 

All it took for this love to happen,

Was for me to make my secret-recipe potato soup.

The secret ingredient?

I made it with love for you.



We dream of living all over the world,

And someday even on the Moon and Mars.


But the best thing is I love going to sleep next to you.

Wherever that may be.


I'm so glad I found you.

Die Beat Us

Just survive.
Don't die!

Check yourself,
Don't wreck yourself.

How many times can I stab myself?
That's the question I'm answering.

For how long?
Forever.

Diet?
That's just for athletes, actors, and models.

I couldn't do it,
If it were me.

Well, it sure beats the alternative.

No sugar for you.
Everything turns into sugar though.

Yes, that's real.

Regimen.
Consistency.
That sounds like a lot of work.

It is.

Have you tried lemon and cinnamon?
My grandmother stopped having it with that.
She died though.

What's your co-pay?
I send my endocrinologist a 6 pack of beer.
As thanks.

I didn't want to join the military.
It's a war against my pancreas.

Diabetics are people.
Just feed us and tell us we're cool.

Worst

She said she was the worst.

Self-proclaimed.

Then she offered to tell me everything.

Turned out she'd been quite naughty.

Some in her youth, some as she got older.

 

I assumed she'd killed someone,

Though, that wouldn't bother me too much.

These days, crazies get out of line,

Self-defense can turn into accidental death. 

 

There's too many circumstances,

To make an unjust assessment.

 

She tells me everything. 

No scandals,

No closet skeletons.

Just some dumb choices,

More "oops" than "ouch".

 

Her view of herself was low.

She valued society's view,

Rather than her own. 

 

If this is your worst,

I said. 

I can deal with you.

If you deal with me back. 

Then we should get married.

Get Good

Good body,
Good looks,
Good money.

Good wife,
Good husband,
Good time.

Good work,
Good sex,
Good purpose.

Good car,
Good house,
Good politics.

Good person,
Good thoughts,
Good leadership.

Good friendship,
Good offspring,
Good memories.

Good style,
Good game,
Good mind.

Good movies,
Good music,
Good art.

Good struggle,
Good change,
Good reality.

Good money,
Good bank,
Good interest.

Good weather,
Good book,
Good day.

Good hugs,
Good kisses,
Good love.

Good food,
Good drinks,
Good times were had.

It's good. 

Stand-In: Part 2

A Stand-In.

Again.

Time is no longer valuable. 

I chose to live in Los Angeles.


Residing in Los Angeles is dealing with long lines. 

They say trendy.

That it's cool to queue up to see live events, eat food, or buy subpar clothing. 

We wait in line in our vehicles on the freeway.

We wait in line at the grocery stores and retailers. 

 

Some live in extremely cramped quarters.

Sometimes 3 people to one room, sometimes four.


The owners of the city are so dumb.

All they care about is stuffing as many people in like cockroaches.

The lousy scum that they are.


We live in cramped quarters.

Sometimes 3 people to a room.

It's prison that you get taxed on.

Some would say so.


Bread lines are synonymous with The Great Depression and Mother Russia.

It's happened here.

At a grocery store.

Is standing in line for long periods a real trend?

No, I don't think so.

 

I don't want to stand in line to pay.

I don't want to queue up online for tickets.

 

Fix it. 

It's You, Again and Again

I pushed myself,
Away from you.

This trouble - it's mine.
Too many times I've gone on my own.
And it's not the way to be united again.


I've tried to realize,
It's my heart that I can't control.
I'm not a machine.
I have to remind myself.

I'm hanging around,
The end of my rope.


Do I have the
Will?
Do I have the
Power?

I do.


I know,
I remember.
It's my heart I must control.

In public. 

 
I lied,
Yes, I know.

I know.
I won't give into you again.


I pulled myself towards you,
In from the past.
You struck my chord,
So I pulled my own strings.

And I let go.
I'm so sorry.

I lied.


And it's no more,
With you I'm alive.
Because I don't have control,
Of who I give myself to.


It's you,
Again and again.

Because of Pornography

Diverse shades of Caucasian women is diversity on screens.

The real life women all deny enjoying watching people fucking. 

Of course, they all want to lick a guy's butthole now.

New era video taught them that.

 

Sex used to be such a regular thing.

Normal? Rarely.

At least 100 people are needed for record breaking pursuits.

Only a crazy person wants missionary.

The sets used to have production value.

Now, it's just a wrinkled sheet hiding the actor's personal belongings. 

Without tube sites many would have no interaction with women.

Only a fan for a small subscription.

Real relationship is for the last generation. 

Dining out and a movie with only a chance at a blowjob.

No thanks.

 

For monthly payments, a woman will pretend to remember you and your name. 

Broke folk can settle for an HD video.

Two people pretending to like each other for twenty minutes.

That's what gets them off.

 

Women over the age of 18 started as girls next door.

In their 20s they get cheap boobjobs.

Now, they can't be manhandled anymore.

But they are nice to look at from a distance.

Once the surgery scars become small enough. 

 

Then in their 30s these women became sluts.

In their mid 30s and early 40s they become MILFS.

Sometimes, they become step-mothers.

No method acting required.

 

Men are now sissies on camera. 

The trending searches show it. 

If only they'd shut the fuck up while the woman phony moans. 

 

Sex is a great strange thing. 

That you do alone or with others.

Because of pornography. 

Common

Yes. 

I'd made it all up.

You fell in love.

Now.

You see who I am.

The real me.

My makeup hides the ugly. 

 

Tell me how much I lied.

How bad I am.

I'll twist your words around.

Make you second-guess it all. 

 

I've been out of my mind.
 

Don't try to make it about you.

I never trusted you.

All I wanted was to be alone.

Instead I got everyone to hurt. 

I did it well, didn't I?

 

That's what you get for falling for me.

Your friends and family are pitiful.

They remind me of my own. 

 

I could never love you. 

I never loved you.

I would never love you.

You barely make any money. 

 

Tell me we're not the same.
 

MY CHOICE.
 

I'm not insane.
 

You tell me I'm fucked up.

Accept me for who I am.

You didn't and you won't.

I won't be like the other girls you've dated.

 

Now, I'm ready to die.

I'll do it, I swear.

Don't take me seriously.

 

I'll just survive.

 

Never thrive.

 

And I'll blame you.

 

 

Because of your ambition.

 

That I never tried to have. 

No More Walls

Furious anger by the citizens,

As they get their rights taken from them.

I've been searching for my rights too,

Seems it's been as far back as I can remember.

 

The mourning and sadness hasn't broken me yet.

To be honest, I don't think I do break. 

 

I've been gripping at the edges,

Until my hands are bone and meat. 

My arms degraded away.

My mind telling me I should let go.

 

Hoping that who I am as a person will be found,

To show that I do exist.

If it's truly out of nowhere,

The zone to reach is open higher than the skies.

Mars might let us all in,

If we could only reach there in time.

 

The feeling of uncertainty covered me,

It blinded my heart that was so incomplete.

What I did was trust the process,

To save my own soul.

 

To walk in on my own imagination,

I waited for decades for it to show up.

What was given to me was peace in my heart,

And a little kindness towards others.

 

I don't need the barrier anymore,

Even if it's for my own protection.

I give myself to those that need it most,

I don't mind if it hurts a little.

 

What I do expect in payback is truth, 

No more lies, no more holding anything away.

It's a wonderful gift to be given,

The biggest trust in one and all.

 

No more walls.

We Come From Caves

Big woman with big breasts.

I adore.

Small woman with big breasts.

I also adore.

I see woman and, I, as a non-religious man, I start to pray.

I pray that she'll think I'm funny, and want to cradle me in her bosom that evening.

I thank the Lord for a woman like that.

The warmth she brings.

The true Goddess of my dreams.

She keeps tranquility among all that support her.

Breasts realize into the eyes the vastness of the universe.

The potential.

The quiet, the cold space in between the enormity of the planets and our beautiful stars.

It doesn't feel so far apart anymore.

We go to the moon for them.

How wonderful everything is in our tiny world, and all the love that it brings.

The caress of the breasts.

Creates joy.

The utter peace that we all crave.

Is in between those curves she keeps.

When I see her from afar,

I lose myself for moments that last eternity.

That's why I'll live forever.

It's because of her.