Sigh tings

Fuck this bullshit waiting game
Insubbordinate
Not accepting
Forcing it
What the fuck
Too much and nothing to do
Empty ends
Shit aint right
All fucked up
Want to sleep
Until the universe just fixes myself

In some Niac

Awake in the early morn
when more than the majority
are found midst deepest their slumberings
and i in envy of them.
Wide wake wondering im
over and over turning
and woe-ing over particulars,
circular twister whisper blows.
Envisioning terrible sorts of scenes,
displaying fantastic make-believe things.
Sickness,
im sick with this.
Self-made worry bout
how it may/may not work itself out.

Stirred.
Up.
Consumed.
Ponderings.
Eating at me.
Subjectively silly seeming
feelings of weakness filling.
I fret and doubt.
Will in me unwilling.
It keeps me sleepless .
How long up will i keep this?
Lame duck stayed up.
Awake here im stuck.
Waste-to-self-laying with this
civil-war-mind-game playing.

Sit i eyes open
in some distant room,
Caring not to disturb the house-held, 
the sense of impending doom.
Quietly, quite frightfully,
i pace, fearing they'll hear my stirs,
spelling sleepy lines of questioning; of which id be deserved.
Like: 'why not are you to bed yet, dont you know its late?'
Id rather avoid that situation, in no mood to conversate.
The fact that day is soon to break leads me to evaluate my mind's insomniatic dumbed down state...

Labours on the daily making dollars like before,
that feeling of security gone
i want it back but this time more
Im found laying bout, unable,
feeling worthlessly unemployed.
This funk creeps in and poisons me.
Deliver me oh Lord
Accomplishing some visions
seems harder than before
It felt like i was getting inside
and now fate has shut the door.
Four figured sums in bank accounts seemed to make for better days.
Ive forgotten that im worth a damn
stuck in this shifting phase.

Certainly the current thing (not sleeping yet) is not at all a corrective action.
Anxious mixed with sleep deprived, im void of satisfaction.
Increasingly burdened and annoyed with this vexing me,
Im wondering if i let it consume me if there will be anything left of me.
My mood is a victim abused,
my mind's health being neglected.
Turned inside, upon itself,
my imagination became a weapon...

'Sleep you fool!
You maniac!
Get shut thine eyes at once,'
Inside my head i say to selves:
'Youre kinda being cunts.'
Disturbed with recognition, of conversations in my head,
in a tone un-sublime, to myself I've replied:
'i'll sleep well when im good and fucking dead!'

Nay, shun

God bless the dead as the dead man would say
I can rhyme and rip out poetics and im talented
but its not like im trying to be the old chick without a kid
im not chasing something that time has passed by
not exactly living when living is a lie
everyday there are mountains and today i choose to climb
planets make me older every time i fly right by
i wave at me not knowing what another year will bring
and when i look at all ive wasted i the opposite of sing
lately ive been losing and the monster in the mirror
is reaching out and grabbing me to drag me to his lair
i pray a lot God answers me but i am pulling strings
im a free to waste away my gifts while screaming freedom rings
for as a free and able man
im free to hell myself to damn
i do it daily, i do. i do.
does it feel like maybe you do too?
this land of the brave is home to few
we have a ship but where's our crew?
who can guide us? lead us all?
who stands upright, will answer the call?
who among? one for all?
all the knowledge and wisdom in all the earth
all signs will point to a single birth
God is alive, forever will be,
but not in my country, tis of thee
For those who would argue, come pray with me
to regain what was once sweet liberty

frosty

force feed me the sunny side because without shoving rainbows down my throat i am afraid i just wont survive because i find no joy when i look for it when it is in front of my face and when i look in the mirror i see only mistakes and though people say they enjoy this man they see they are only fooling themselves and not me for if only a glimpse into my mind and they concede to agree that they would much rather not be me and the three the me the myself the third eye, we are forever id ego all stuck in this head while the super part is adrift in the universe and cares not to bother with the sins of the flesh for when ever we glimpse it quickly are left alone in the world so cold if only we could covet and hold like a shadow lost

kcab klat

i aim
still alive
waiting for nothing
becoming nothing
pointless existence
distance
disintegration
character defamation
liar cheat con deadbeat
grease the grinder
cold cuts fresh meat
meetings in offices
the kind to off her kids
darkness blankets
cold winds blow
so above
as down below
hottest summer
in 4000 year
the end is coming
and we in arrears

Bengal Tigri

Jungle florescent in the back of its eyes it slithery lay wait in most patient disguise waiting solely to strike deeply within you so deep that no breath can escape you you cant make a peep tis most despised dark and dreary its skin mostly mirrory anomalistic animalistic but boiled way over far gone past ballistic an anacondic forced freak of unnaturealistic vodoocan magic its deeds are world over oft horrifically tragic yea whatever boat you float a labyrinth of motes and far fields of oats so stretching one gloats "that by journey half passed that if started in warm attire one would have need the warmest of coats lest he chance to expire" it has networks like spokes that make crushing throat chokes like black riders and darth vaders to the darkness it caters and like a siren you desperately will be entranced by it coaxing still observwating in the somewhere the thing somehow knows things so cheerily for thrill it will too wait you out no doubt so secretly it seeks to reek havoc from habit like a post soviet slavic indeed its agreed BT is most waskly of wabbids

Shae PipSh'fterz

mfsirs- [abbriv. of "mother f***ing sir(s)] a group of men betraying counter balancing characteristics of being extra-personally abrasive or being sinisterly intended and eloquence in speech and mannerisms or chivalrousness.

Sux es

they'll kill us all for even thinking about tryin to x poez eh? no way ho ze gun have sum fun like hoe chi in a min mfen face thrown book take a look reading rain and rainbows flo is so x tinked like doe doe ray me falicity fall is tisk tis of the where sweet lambs like liver tea time boss tin tin tale heart telling and selling massive grave lie layman mass is tell report say dos that start spanglosaxin bill clinton backin up toni tone braxton higgs. in disabitch..

A query. us. a quarian

if u are unopposed try to flow with the ebbs care not who knows the future? i dare not attempt to presuppose i hop and i surf waves not never, nearly never caring nor con-cerning with to where or when or what for it goes riding highest highs and lowest lows, entering the open leaving shut whats closed