A Dreadfully Fake Fatmouth.

You know that point in a good story when the bad guy finally shows up? There’s always suspenseful music and poorly done close ups of anxious faces…the terror is tangible, even to the viewer. Well what if there is no music at all? What if the bad guy’s entrance is subtle and incognito? What if the villain blindsided the heroin with a haymaker out of nowhere, knocking her down before stomping her unconscious and stealing her grandmother’s jewelry from her bloodied fingers and clenched fists?

That’s pretty much how this most recent bullshit waste of my time, money and energy has come to represent in my mind.

And even more disturbingly, this sorry fuck actually has himself convinced that, despite the fact that he STOLE FROM ME while he was a guest in my home, he has been victimized. It’s truly pathetic how he comes to my blog and steals my posts then paraphrases them and acts all proud of himself for being the plagiarizing thief he is, in reality. He has proven to be one of the very worst guys I’ve ever tangled with romantically…he’s just such a miserable worm.

And now that I’m looking for it in him, it’s so blatant and obvious that I additionally feel like a complete dolt for not seeing it. I spent over and year with this idiot being totally and completely lied to by a narcissistic fuck.

I’m so over everyone in my life at present besides my friend who’s thankfully living nearby…he has been sanity for me lately, though his trial period with me has been extended, which is usually not a good sign.

Whatever.

I have to be able to take it or leave it.

Because that’s what I have to be able to do.

A Dreadfully Fake Fatmouth.

You know that point in a good story when the bad guy finally shows up? There’s always suspenseful music and poorly done close ups of anxious faces…the terror is tangible, even to the viewer. Well what if there is no music at all? What if the bad guy’s entrance is subtle and incognito? What if the villain blindsided the heroin with a haymaker out of nowhere, knocking her down before stomping her unconscious and stealing her grandmother’s jewelry from her bloodied fingers and clenched fists?

That’s pretty much how this most recent bullshit waste of my time, money and energy has come to represent in my mind.

And even more disturbingly, this sorry fuck actually has himself convinced that, despite the fact that he STOLE FROM ME while he was a guest in my home, he has been victimized. It’s truly pathetic how he comes to my blog and steals my posts then paraphrases them and acts all proud of himself for being the plagiarizing thief he is, in reality. He has proven to be one of the very worst guys I’ve ever tangled with romantically…he’s just such a miserable worm.

And now that I’m looking for it in him, it’s so blatant and obvious that I additionally feel like a complete dolt for not seeing it. I spent over and year with this idiot being totally and completely lied to by a narcissistic fuck.

I’m so over everyone in my life at present besides my friend who’s thankfully living nearby…he has been sanity for me lately, though his trial period with me has been extended, which is usually not a good sign.

Whatever.

I have to be able to take it or leave it.

Because that’s what I have to be able to do.

Stolen Smiles.

I bet you think,
that you got me,
you think,
some rinky-dink,
cheap hoodwink,
can shock me?
You need to,
see a shrink,
exclusively,
immediately,
can you say,
“shock therapy”?
You like to think,
your shit don’t stink,
stupidly,
not shocking,
You think you’re,
the only geek,
with a nod and wink,
who’s rocking?
You think like,
a cracked-out tweak,
on a shopping spree,
heart stopping,
shit talking,
You think a,
decryption key,
means shit to me?
unlocking,
You think it,
doesn’t wreak,
of thievery,
such mockery,
call blocking,
You think you’re,
the only freak,
the only skumbag thief,
who’s stalked me?
You think,
the doublespeak,
the hyperlinks,
the subtleties,
cock-blocking,
You think me,
mild and meek,
words I speak,
empty miscellany,
just squawking,
You think you,
can hinder me,
in my stepping,
or render me,
unsuspecting,
of your indecency,
insolently,
emptily,
keep thinking,
keep trying,
quit weaseling,
quit lying,
You’re unforgiven,
how unforeseen,
was the dying,
of a beloved king,
the defying of,
defaming of,
decomposing of,
love’s creamy dreams,
reinforcing of,
sharpened,
hardened,
darkened things,
broken wings,
Screams curdling,
frozen hearted,
cement-shoed,
bound to settle in,
down you go again,
unthinkably,
unspeakably,
Reactively,
you’re scaly,
snakeskinny,
filthy to your DNA,
How ya like me now?
Please sink and drown,
Or swim away,
into yesterday,
on your back belly up,
Contentedly,
Complacently,
Away from me,
I’ll steal
what’s left of,
your smile,
while you cry,
like a child in your sleep.





Stay Up On Your Feet.

People say things easily.
Mostly, being insincere.
They strive to weasel into your life and prove something to themselves.
Something rotten and reminiscent of toxic spores. They aim to break the strength they see in you, to make the beautiful into the hideous.
They want to see you cry and beg.
They aim to show you new lows.
They aim to make you alone.
They aim to silently poison your table of knights one by one.
They feign love.
They indignify truth through their very existences.
These people want to be a victim, always; unable to endure what doesn’t fit into a pre-self-determined reality that’s far from being real.
People like this can’t (won’t/don’t) help themselves from being the epitome of protervity and narcissism.
It’s often quite easy to glimpse the actual pig’s (from the state of perpetual pig-headedness of such people) features at times, if you concentrate long enough on their’ faces.
These people are truly hopeless, and entangling yourself with one of them will inarguably take years off of your life.
People need to sleep at night (well, most people, at least) and throughout their’ lives, have honed the art of achieving said sleep by any and all means necessary.
It doesn’t matter who they have to steal from, lie to or cheat on.
Most people are either like puppets or puppeteers.
They can be dragged around by a string and made to do another’s bidding – to be the butt of another’s constant stream of jokes and gags and be kept in a box out of sight, some asshole’s means of venting his subliminal machinations; or they can be the one dragging the strings and throwing their’ voices, the people harboring silently forlorn grudges against all of humanity.
People who feel it necessary to repeatedly outline the purity and righteousness of the lives they lead might as well wear a t-shirt that reads:
“Hey. I’m a fucking Fatmouth. Don’t believe a word I tell you about myself. I’m worth more dead.”
These are the same people who know – deep down – that not a decent individual in the world holds any sentiment in his/her direction, not even mom or dad, usually. Grandma even disowned these people, even, in her own heart.
These are the people who vampire your cha-cha and exhaust you in totality.
Don’t let this brand of evil wash out your colors and make you feel like a faded version of yourself.
These are the people you exchange faked smiles with anytime you meet eachother.
Try to keep those meetings at a minimum.

Charlatanical.

Shitty tattoos,
Absent front tooth,
Alcohol infused,
Jaw flapping,
Knuckles rapping,
Air leaking through,
Big brown eyes,
Telling nonstop lies,
You’re fucking high,
Unclean,
Unforeseen,
Not enough miles between,
That stinky lifestyle,
The steaming shitpile,
Rusted turnstiles,
Nothing worthwhile,
I lost too,
Much to you,
It’s all bled through,
The truth,
Fire country,
Attention hungry,
Back full of monkeys,
There’s no saving you,
You’re too far beyond,
Slithering, And talking long,
There’s no fixing you,
You built a filthy empire,
Of stolen shit like copper wire,
Look around you everywhere,
Noone is standing there,
Nobody wants to associate,
With your town’s smartest primate,
Give me what’s mine,
Cross back over that line,
Just one last time,
And hand it back at last,
You’ve showed your ass,
To a piece of your past,
That you let slip from your hand,
I hope you do understand,
I’m a lamb,
You’re no man,
Just sit down and realize,
Conceptualize,
Perpetulize,
The demolition of facades,
Crumbling,
Numbing,
Stumbling along,
You’ve predicted all wrong,
It’s all gone,
Non-materialized
Bad breath,
Rotting death,
Inside decayed,
Like words you’ve said,
Like lives you’ve led,
Into the flames of Hell,
I recall well,
And time will tell,
Your tongue will burn,
With lessons learned,
Too late,
Too low,
And now you know,
Your blade never sliced into me,
The games that you play,
Didn’t defeat me,
I’m standing tall,
And fine, overall,
It’s the likes of you, afterall, Who will inevitability crawl.

Kidding.

Beautiful, gorgeous, happy glow…
Your Sweetest Nothing’s
put into syllables, for show.
Fiery, wanting…
glued to your face
your mouth’s curves
a daunting place…
I’ve been before
But tell me how – I bow down
into the splinters and cinders
that litter the floors
like your long line of whores
I see them all,
I choose to ignore…
You never answer questions
your many Life Lessons
have taught you little of
the snap inside my rubber glove
We are meant to Own our possessions.
Are we not?
You have seen quite a lot
Of my flesh,
Camera flash;
digitalized dash
in red LED text;
what now?
Onto the next…
Right?
Or am I wrong?
Am I dumb
To play along?
See here’s the thing:
I see the strings
Attached to each one
Of your crispy clean
cummerbunds…
I see the line of
Space and time,
wrapped inside
Of that tattoo –
You were too pure
to follow through…
Ouch!
this hurts miserably;
Yes you , yes me.
Look away if you must
Please?
Your face is too much
to see, anyway.
Ouch!
Just go on about your
fashionable way.
You were fine before
I came along
In my string bikini thong
to knock upon your door;
You’ll be fine now,
and I guess…
so will I, somehow –
Just forget it all,
my cries and calls,
forget me
don’t see me…
don’t see me fall.
You won’t believe me,
Anyway…
Your ears don’t hear
a word I say.
Go fucking play
As you have,
each and every day
as it’s passed.
What was that?
What did you say?
“Score?…Because of…?”
And you’re talking about
How I showed
my bare ass to you –
FUCK YOU.
For that,
I counter you:
Mr. Fashionably True,
I hope this finds you well;
I hope it reaches you;
And hits you
makes you hurt
as you’re looking up my skirt…
What’s the score again?
Mr. Hockey Man –
dead red battery
flashing in your corner screen,
you don’t know the bones
that construct Lil’ Ol’ Me,
nothing taken seriously…
so fuck yourself,
good and hard –
multiplied by twelve.
I am a star,
And I will shine in Hell –
Quit kidding yourself.

Soup.

Fuck doing what’s right to do
might have to confront the truth
and you may actually
at last, and finally
have to step up and pay your dues
every single bridge
burned down to a crisp
take the drama and dishonesty
as far as you can get from me
I can’t function like this
there you have stood silently by
done your part to take what’s mine
when all is done
and you have no one
don’t come crying to me this time
you’ve helped to construct
a place that is fucked
from wall to wall
trumping any and all
good in the things you should touch
Fuck staying in this primordial soup
this fucking unhealthy familial loop
when I am no more
around like before
who will catch your boot?
Always choose to color me wrong
over and over until the color was gone
but you can’t tell me what is right
you wouldn’t recognize the sight
pull your blade from my back and move along.

Soup.

Fuck doing what’s right to do
might have to confront the truth
and you may actually
at last, and finally
have to step up and pay your dues
every single bridge
burned down to a crisp
take the drama and dishonesty
as far as you can get from me
I can’t function like this
there you have stood silently by
done your parts to take what’s mine
when all is done
and you have no one
don’t come crying to me this time
you’ve helped to construct
an existence that is fucked
from wall to wall
and trumping any and all
good in the things you should touch
Fuck staying in this primordial soup
this fucking unhealthy familial loop
when I am no more
around like before
who then, will catch your boot?
Always chose to color me wrong
over and over until the color was gone
but you can’t tell me what is right
you wouldn’t even feel its bite
pull your knife from my back and walk on.

Heatstroke and Snow.

Imprisoned amidst the vastness of all things labyrinthine,
the backdrop to my own failed romantic meanderings,
the endless saga of a tale that I can’t stand reading,
a maze of pits and sinkholes designs a twisted serpentine…
my soul: sold to the devils hanging outside from the trees,
a bucket of pain in exchange for a lifetime on my knees,
behold that’s last year’s intel and it’s no surprise to me,
men come and go same as heatstroke and snow, apparently…
and in truth it’s no use to say it’s not fine in my mind,
it’s better that way: short and sweet, hello – goodbye,
you’ve seen my bare ass and smiling face for the last time,
boots on and laced, and I’ve already outpaced your front line.

Fatmouth.

If a shooting star spent all of eternity
in being stricken across the night skies…
ever steady, blazing through the E-40
a distance, never closing –
between two massive, lying eyes…
the bell’s constant tolling –
a sound patterned to symbolize…
one of the fighters is face-down –
lights out, three – two – one
stars still twinkling,
sun still sinking –
along with the well-honed
bare-boned,
dramatic fireworks show,
I belatedly recognize…
the shooting star
fired from the smoking barrel
of Misery’s own Sig Sauer .45 –
no room to wiggle
no time to grow in size.

Pretty Much The Same Thing.

same thingIn the spirit of The Mad Black Woman (Porno – LOL), Miss Persia Karema,

“I’m Just Sayin”…..