I am in love with fire. I want to cut the throats of kings. I want to drink dark red wine with strong-hearted women (if you sing to me/I will love you). No God or man would dare deny me. I am the master of my own  reality. I scream at the top of my lungs until my throat gives out. Men wish to be me and beg to hunt at my side. As for women though/a wise man would not boast to a rose. The fire burns within me and I fear no other than myself. Into dark nights I go singing and all evil I greet with a  laugh and a sharp knife.

Oh I never wake in fear

at men who scream and men who sneer

and people chanting, "hounds draw near!"

Oh I never wake in fear.



The ignorance of jeers and hate

are always thrashing at the gate,

but all they do is seal our fate

for I never wake in fear.



The warden points and dogs do bite

in finding ways to prove what's right.

While all we do is breed despite

and I never wake in fear.



His lasting words, a dying impression

draw from wrath a pleading confession

laughing at a virtue regression

still I never wake in fear.



You hope they shiver at your blade..?

At all the WONDEROUS things you've made?

When all their morals, you invade?

Strange I never wake in fear!



How you claw, to fully erase

the hopeless, foul things in this place.

When mirrors are your only face...

why can't I ever wake in fear?



My time is done, my mind is clear.

Yet, still I wonder why I'm here...

With hope, one day, I'll shed a tear,

the day that I wake up in fear...

I want what I will never have and I have what I could never want.

I look in the mirror and see a man, or what the world says a man should be.
I see strong shoulders and I see eyes that are doing their best not to turn cold.

At times I see a stranger.
A ghost.
A figure that just wants freedom.
But what is freedom?
Is freedom giving up and letting the waves of others carry you away?
Is freedom constantly fighting to stay above water and getting funny looks in the street?
I ask the man in the mirror the same question and he just shakes his head and walks away.
A boy is left standing there.
He gently smiles.

I am playing with fire,
because apparently I haven't learned.
I'm playing with fire,
and I am not the one who will get burned.

You are the one who can play the piano keys of my heart.
You can pluck the strings of my dreams. An orchestra of romance and tranquility and a concerto of gentleness and fire.
Memories and ghosts haunt us all and keep us afraid.
They tighten us and whisper in our ears that we are failures and that we deserve to be in pain.


I can be the exception.


I can be the voice in your ear.
What they said does not matter.

Ghosts cannot survive in the sunlight, and I want to bathe you in it.
I want to make you feel as beautiful as you are.
As long as you are smiling, the earth will spin a little happier and the stars will burn a little brighter.
As long as you keep the fire in your heart, hope for a reality better than this remains.
Close your eyes.
Let go of your fear.
Listen to me when I tell you that you are why the sun is so eager to poke his head over the horizon.
I will whisper in your ear and I will hold you.
I will be the exception.
Be brave my love.

Stay you.

If time is relative then why are we moving at all?
I look around
and to me we all seem to be standing still...
Frozen in our civic and social duties.
Like watching a game show,
Or buying a frozen pizza.
...dressing up to go to church.

We become frozen in these moments and they end up defining who we are instead of the other way around.

Maybe the world is in an event horizon and I am stuck outside watching everyone seem to move in no direction at all.
Yet I see myself as well.
Sitting completely still and becoming a mannequin...

I would say that we are moving towards a black hole,
******* the light and life out of us,
but that would be foolish.

Because we are the black hole.
We steal the life and desire.
Hopes and dreams
from ourselves and throw our souls away for a paycheck and death certificate.

If I could find the warehouse of man and stumble upon the assembly line, I would shoot the foreman and break the machine.

Then

I

would

burn

that

building

to

the






ground...

I only milk my goats by machine
Machines with hands that is

It would never do
do have a real person milk them

They might get attached

Then what would I do with a goat-human hybrid?

I suppose I could sell it on ebay
...or maybe even amazon

Would you like a goat-human for your birthday?
I hear they make great pets

My goat has a speech impediment
when the doctor checked her throat
she could only say "AAAAAAAAAAAhhh"
not "ahhhhhhhhh"

The doctor broke the news to me one day
'your goat....has an impediment' he bleated quietly

I dashed out of his AAhffice
AAhway from his AAhccusatory statements
AAhnd rushed into the legs of my goat

'Goat...what are your legs doing there?'
i asked

and I looked up
and saw the goat dAAhngling above my head
'what in the world?!' I AAhxclaimed
'dearest Goat-etha, I had no  AAhdea you could fly'

"every since AAh shAAhared mAAh secret, AAh felt so free, AAh could fly"
(she didn't sound like she had an impediment to me)

'but Goat-etha, you know you can't fly'

and she crashed to the ground
crushed by the knowledge
that not everything is possible

'dear Goath-etha, I still love you, you know'

and she stood back up
and ironed her previously-crushed legs
and walked to the doctor's office
and gave that man a kick in the bAAhlls

for the prettiest goat in all the world
I would vote for you for president
of the blagosphere