greg the pickup artist

you...
pick up
stick up
flick up
the next girl
and over
over again...
i can't trust
i can't lust
i must
get you away
from me.
today is through
yesterday and few
those times i knew
who you are
and what youve always been.
i can't trust this
i can't trust you.
period.
exclaimation point!!
!!!

!

you won't read this
(i'm glad)
all this words you'll miss
lips i want
but
don't want to kiss
You make me sick
(dick)
(lick)
you trick.

ha

no more

goodnight.
the end.

won't let me forget

in the present time
in the things i do
situations i encounter
feelings i encover
people i meet
in most of every thing that happens now in my life
my past is there-
to haunt
to remind
to grow
to teach
to destroy
and even if the past is long gone
and many years away
we can never forget our own
no matter how hard we try
it's there
it won't let us forget
it's there
it's there in the in between time
it's there the spaces
it's there in the silence
and in the voices and
faces and music
it's there in the life of today
at times it creeps in without warning
it knocks me down
i break like a little girl
i cry like a child
i am not prepared
i cannot deal
- for years i try to push it away
i run from it... ignore that it's there
ignore and block any and all associations
and for years i didn't- i couldn't
listen to certain music
go to certain places
see certain places
because all were just a painful reminder of him and that time
i couldn't deal with it
but no matter how much you try and no matter how many years you run from it- sooner or later you have to learn how to deal with it- it's either facing it or it slowly killing you.

 

the ghost of my friends

This is not a prison.
This is a trap.

I am the bait.

___________________________________________________________

Having balls is a good thing
having raw passion is a good thing and a rare thing.
To have both passion AND balls is what makes someone great.

I miss the great ones
I miss the lovers
and the dreamers/creators
I miss the artists
I miss the tortured souls- the poets...the journeymen ...
and I mean the real ones
the real risk takers
the real love makers
the ones that do what they were born to do
unafraid of being who they really are
the ones that live for what they love
and the ones that love to love.
it has nothing to do with image
and everything to do with heart and soul
and pure being
I miss the truth in them
I miss their passion
I miss having them around
I miss them knocking at my bedroom window at 3am
driven by desire
driven by love
and...That feeling -
that wonderful feeling of hope and wonder
and the excitement in life and love

I miss the fire

it's my time now

i've been breaking

piece

by

p

iec

e...

....

..........
for awhile now.

pieces inside

pieces scattered all

over

the floor

all over the ground
pieces of pieces
found all around

pieces shattered -

pound by pound

each step

each walk

walk on -walk over

walk through
walk in

walk I-N-G
down the road to bust

pieces turn to dust

and fade to dust

fin
to sweep - to shape- to shift

in line w
remove(d) from

then to disappear

breathe in
then out to

just disappear

i am many pieces

my many pieces of grain
without wax
all in wane

it is time for the run
it is time for the howl

shiver shake to pieces
move

transpire

i can feel it leaving mei can feel it slipping

i can feel it being taken

like every joy

every moment

every person

every love

every piece.like losing everything

all over - alone again.listen

i hear

the sound

of screaming

babies

mother -less- child -less-

endless

hopeless...

less and less

yes... soon i will be gone

it's almost time for me to leave

leave behind the army of sharks
&sheep

it is my time now to sleep

years later you will forget all about me

in some ways you already have.

what damaged goods

2:37 am
it's the nights like this that really shake me up.
with my bedroom window open
the air is sharp and i want it to rain
it's nights like this where i really see what i'm made of -
it's like i'm standing on the edge
always on the edge
ready to jump
fall? ready to fly away.
how could i feel something so strong  just a week ago
only to lose it now- like it was never there.
a trick i was taught at an early age?
most likely.
and when i think about it for a minute...
it makes me kinda sad that i wish i could feel it again
but it's gone.
yes... that one is gone forever
and i am here
dancing on my edge of the night
ready to jump fall leap fly whatever
ready to dance the only way i know how
it's the nights like this
that i live for.

don't let the shit people bring you down

deal with the shit heads
head on you're a part of what makes the scene
and whether you like it or not
you are a part of the party
you are a part of the group
don't think you have some kind of control over those people
cause in the waiting room
in the waiting line
they creep in
they suck you dry
they are leeches
and it shakes your head
rattles your walls
-
some people are stronger
most people just look strong in the line of fire
what's funny is that those people aren't really strong
they just don't care
they don't think about what is good and what is toxic
they like the party
they like the attention
and for a time being they feed off it.
they eat that shit up
- but

sad sorry sundays

another sob story
slurred words
(?) lacking form
lacking meaning
sloppy jumbles of
meaningLESS
MESS
and the more said
equals less
and
less.
drunk
drink
drank
drop
drip drip drip
drop
slop!
tape (that pie hole)
shut
shit
shoot it down
where did you go?
where was i when you left?
i stare at the table
i stare at you
mouth open
spit spatting everywhere
spilling sob stories
sad silly stories
all that's left of you

monsters move mad

i'm part monster
more monster than you know
i don't ever know what lies--
--inside skin
inside me--
devil(s) hide love-
and lurk high
inside my mind.
my monsters
and my devils hide well.
one may not find them
or know them
no one knows them like i do.
they remain in silence
quietly
they brew