Escape!

What will you do?
What will you say?
How many videos will you share?
Only time will tell, won't it?
Only time will show me
just how desperate you people are
you Dwarf, you Witch,
you Brother and your whore mother.

I know you.
And that is what scares you.
So many people know you.
So many.

You deserve each other, you and those monsters

There is no easy way to say this

but I've been thinking about turning

not running but rather

kind of like a werewolf thing

unexpected, transcendental,

not a kin to your kind anymore

I mean, who would want to be?

To be known as your ex lover

to be seen as someone you once held

it is repugnant, to think I shared myself

to the last drop, with the likes of you

your family, your friends, the lot of rats

merely scrapping by, because that is

all you know and can do.

Once I tried to help you, twice I did lift you up,

and yet three times you did betrayed me, then the fourth

you left me to die in their hands.

You knew exactly what you were doing

taking away from me all that I held dear

my own choice to say yes or no, to consent.

To you it was just a game to play

just another piece of meat to bite into.

I loved you, and I gave so much of myself to you,

and as before I was betrayed by a most heinous of acts

done by a heartless bitch just wanting to get rich quick

because you never knew how to sell your mind

the work you did with your hands wasn't enough

if it wasn't holding onto someones cock

and you couldn't do any good talking with your mouth

so you had to get on your knees and pray for milk

with your baby boy so he could eat.

You deserve all you get,

all of the lies you are fed,

all of the people who will use you,

you deserve each and every moment you hate

the smell of the garbage pickers on top of you

because your love is something to be sold

because you can be bought and traded like a commodity

there is nothing about you which is redeeming,

there is nothing about you which can be saved.

I do not want to belong to the same genus as you

I do not wish to be cataloged among the same lines

as someone who will sell their own blood young and fragile

as someone who will take pure love and corrupt it with hate

To be with you was a learning experience of all I do not want

To be with you was a task to be completed in order to grow

Now all I can think of is making my memories of you disappear

Now all I can think of is remembering you so I do not forget

Why I want to become something else
Why I want to be free of you.

Thoughts

It's not for nothing, but there is a lot of different things in life that can always keep you occupied or at least help you forget. Some things are not that easy to put behind you, to think about differently. Some things are fleeting memories you don't want to make disappear, but there is no other way to move forward. Each and every day to wonder how many times it has to be relived in order to be understood. There is the just idea of the law of threes. This will never stop being a reality, a truth. Compared to the music of angels harps, this is nothing, but it is different. Maybe, maybe just enough to keep you going. There is a lasting choking point, thrusted upon the bay of human treachery you'll find it, and it will be something you can see and feel just as well in your husky insides. That gut feeling. Don't forget to listen to it. It doesn't mean you have to run away, it  means you need to be ready for anything, to study, to be on your toes. Stick to your love, love to love. There is no greater joy than to be truly on your path, be it what it may, even if you're so afraid and it can't get any worse just know one thing, it can and it will but you're strong enough to take it and smart enough to stay alive. God-speed.

Pumpkin Spice Girls

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Conversation With a Recovering Sex Worker

"They all have a prize" she said,
"Each woman out there is willing,
has, probably is at this very moment,
selling herself for something.
Some do it for love, others for money,
there are those who do it for need
be it food drink or drug,
others just like the way it feels
to have a cock inside of them
that loveless embrace and meaningless fuck,
with some cash thrown on top
anything is good enough for them to cum."

She sips her coffee,
lights another cigarette
and as she looks down
cup in one hand resting on the table
bitting her pinky finger
then taking a big drag of smoke
and as she exhales she says

"But all of those women,
especially those who do it
for money or for drugs,
will have to fuck guys who are just dirty,
their cocks unwashed for days
with that white smegma shit on them
and who knows what else!
That rancid sweaty smell–
some stinking of garbage
others just violent assholes. You know,
the moment they close that door
those women are slaves to those men,
sex slaves. They've sold themselves
for twenty thousand pesos, their freedom
for one hour, they belong to them."

She takes another drag from her smoke,
her voice is shaky, her grip on the glass is tight.

"Those men are the kind of people
who'll do all sorts of perverted things,
especially to a young woman,
they like to see a pretty face wince in pain,
a pleasurable agony."

She looks towards the green mountains,
past the city skyline, past the busy and working city
as a serene air comes through the large windows

"I stopped doing that a long time ago,
sure I have my price, but it isn't some thing
just anyone can pay for. I gotta like you,
you've got to buy me dinner,
take me out dancing, show me
a good time around town.
Then, when we are back at your place,
then, and only after we've met MY
expectations, then you can ravage me,
or I you. Well, not you you, but
you know what I mean, don't you darling?"

She snuffs her cigarette.

This is the ebb of the tide of our love

I asked her if she was going to sell her body again
she said she didn't want to talk about it right then
so there was something to talk about
something to be aired

It wasn't hard to figure out,
she was making ends-meet when I met her
then once we hung out
she told me of all the evil things in her life

her boss who is always asking for head
because he said he needed to get off
it made him feel better, she said
his balls hurt, it was the clap

when I first noticed it
I showed her what was going on
she thought that always happened
that it was normal in all men

before I had gone to her work,
because she invited me to
every day she said I made her feel safe
for two whole months.

She was still working,
not making enough money
although the designs all went out
she made a measly dollar per

though when she staid on
without me there
doing her deed in the bathroom
she could pay
for her babys' food and then some

so she told me one day
it is over
that is that, I cannot have this with you
She got new clothes and make up

Her shoes were also new
everything about Her changed
Her demeanor towards me
there was another man

other men
the smell on her, the ebb
in her
unnatural

clap
slow
patient
rising out and through

and that fucker told her it was normal
for your dick to drip like that
and she believed him
bringing it into our bedroom

I loved her
with every ounce of my being
although with this betrayal
I could only learn to forget her

and these realizations were just the beginning...

And she's a Moon, Cosmic.

Thinking about her

seems redundant

for her own existence

is but a figment

of her own imagination.

She's lived a thousand lives

worn a million faces

with each mask falling

from her broken facade

to show the ruins left behind

from the drugs and selling herself

so that men may have their kicks

so that she may make the bills

to pay for the little one who waits

back home to get sick from her breath

covered in the cum of her clients,

Still she wonders why her family gets so sick,

why her child is always ill sleeping next to her at night,

why her parents always look at her

with eyes so empty–

because they know what she does

in the bathroom stall of the print shop

bending over to show how well she's studied

and done her kegels to please the men.

Her parents know

that she drugs unwilling parties

with the help of the dwarf

to make her wallet bigger,

but what she doesn't remember

is if the coffee he's brought her

was dosed with scopolamine or not

sometimes she's curious

why her pussy aches,

why her chest pounds,

why her neck is sore,

why her head hurts–

scopolamine, burundanga.

He rapes her

when he doesn't want to pay her

she's okay with it

she's fine

she's a good girl

when she's on her knees,

her aching knees,

when she's bent over the toilette

getting pounded from behind

by yet another

and another

and another and another

and another and

another

and

another

and another,

she's fine with it

it's what she's been taught

what she's been made to be

what the drugs have done

what the desperation led her to:

becoming a tool for the pleasure of others.

Contrary to popular opinion I want to LIVE!

When your life is a roller coaster
you've got no choice
other than to take that ride
enjoy your time in the light
shadows and spikes
like a neon forest
climbing up the side
its glow engulfs you just
as you fall down so hard
as you fall down so far
that the only thing you've got
is that breath
coming quickly in and out
you're so in love with it
you're so in love with it
with yourself, and that is okay
because we all want to live
we all need a break

Her Eyes Shone Like An Accretion Disk

She speaks to me in code
with the way everything came back
the memories
of nights at that bar just talking,

chatting, asking to just imagine
how blessed one must be
to be able to teach someone
to make love again.

Then I didn't know
I was completely unaware of it,
I had never had that chance
and never thought I would get.

Until I met you
and we went into that room
where we took off most of our clothes
making love without kissing.

We talked afterwards
you looked at my tattoos
I looked at your lips
the gap in your thighs

We didn't get to exchange numbers
but I looked for you there
many times
many many times

and you probably saw me
but you didn't let me know

I wanted to love you
something inside me just
wanted to love you
all I really wanted

Time passed, washing away
what happened that night
putting it in the back of my head, memory
where I never suspected it would come back.

So we met that day
9 months later
and you pretended, as
I pretended

like it had never been.

We saw each other
not 15 hours later
to catch a movie
about gentlemen with umbrellas

I touched your hand
I held it in mine
and from that moment
You had me.

I didn't care where I'd met you
before, on the streets
all I could see was that beautiful being
there, inside your eyes.

Flickering screen turned into flickering dance floor
we moved, swinging to the music
and just as the place closed
I kissed your lips

Then just outside on 23rd I kissed you,
then on 17th and 6th
again on 15th and 6th
all the way to 12th and 6th

Until you came up to my place,
invited because I knew your friends,
we talked about this night
then we went to my bed

I touched your skin softly
making amends where I could
stitching together the gaps
in your corporal heart.

Tearing my own out
undoing years of slowly sowing
stitches together, I found you
but you unraveled into a lie

with the Cinnamon water
blessed by a priest
sprinkled inside the corners
offering to open up some truths

which just came pouring out
like a sickness slowly dripping
to the sound of meeting hands
painful globes and wretched stench

of the truth leaking out.
She said it was normal
to feel this way
I said it was a terrible way to live.

She said I'd taught her
how to make love again
feeling herself in the moment
not having to forget.

For that I am thankful
because that night
so many years ago
sitting at that bar in Coral Springs

Sour Girl and I had our chance meeting
without much do or say
we were dancing around each other
like stellar bodies nearing decay.

You spoke truths
words that echoed through time and space
did I not listen well enough?
Where were you from?

Live Long and Prosper.

On a rainy day, court is in business.

There in the court

with the massive Queen

which sits in the middle of the great hall

just spitting out words to the masses, orders

Our lovely maiden–anticipates
swords unsheathed all in a row, stiff

a queue of would be gentlemen await her

across the entrance of the great hall.

While their hands tightly grasp their swords

their lips whispering of her great deeds,

it rains as the Queen loudly drowns away

a soothing sound of water coming down.

If it doesn't rain, the land withers.

If it doesn't rain, the crops die.

If it doesn't rain, there is no dinner.

If it doesn't rain, babies starve.

So she saves the world

enchanting crowds with red lips

floats across the open court

on her nimbus cloud.

"No, sabe que? Todo bien." Ella dijo.

It is a brand new day!
Gracias por las lecciones
De nada por las lecciones
I loved every minute inside you

De tus ojos
Y aun asi
me hayas dejado
quemando por dentro,

Estoy feliz.
I am happy,
because it didn't feel right
towards the end there.

It became something of a joke,
My love for you.
Que Dios os bendiga a los pecadores
Ahora y en la hora de nuestra muerte,

Amen!

Que sigamos resando
por perdones ajenos, queriendo
momentos prestados
nunca devueltos.

Cambio de papeles
Click Click Click Click
Alma capturada digitalmente
The Ghost In The Shell, it

Whispers sweet nothings
to an ear eager to please, just then
emotions become toys
la lengua en la oreja.

There is something to be ware of:
Te ame.
Verdaderamente lo hice,
pero eso fue, y no sera.

En el nombre del Padre,
del Hijo, y del Espiritu Santo.

Trying

I waited to throw out the cigarette butts with your lipstick on them. I just couldn't bring myself to before, but now it's no biggie. I guess it's my way of cutting it out of me.

Lunar Pirate

On the passing of dreams

All I can imagine is the worst

of all things happening

without even closing my eyes

I can see it all.

Eviceral

That moment when you feel something cold and distant in your bones, when the pit of your stomach falls to depths unknown, and all you can do is watch processions of emotions crawling their way down your throat.


Eviceral.

These things

Things I learned from you:

Knitt
Smile through the worse of times
It is best to go with the flow unless it is something that you don't believe in
Fools rush in, but it's funner that way
The IMF is a bunch of Daft Cunts
Kissing is beautiful
Making love with your eyes closed is okay
It's okay to miss people
You should be a vocal and aprehensive lover
Learn to listen
Speak when necessary
Drinking helps anxiety
It is okay to miss someone
It is not okay to let that someone hold you back
Don't loose yourself to the pleasures of the world
Always try to help people
Be kind
Love

For this I thank you, and I still think about you in the most positive light. Even after everything.

untitled

你是美丽的化身

我是一个魔鬼

我们不可能

Nǐ shì měilì de huàshēn 

wǒ shì yīgè móguǐ

wǒmen bù kěnéng

On Moons and other stuff.

Time weighs heavy and yet people still dance to old routines. It would be nice to actually find someone "different" for a change, all the wrong echoes, all the wrong flags, and the blind following on the tail of the devil. M-O-O-N: that spells torture, a Chinese finger trap and a packet of fags, don't get smoke in your eye.