you weak women

who take it like they give it

not 1^st

not 2^nd

not 3^rd

not even 4^th

their dogs come before you

to them pussy is all you are

to me we are a league of breeders

and i will die out before i let them

have their way with me

how do you feel you spineless whores?

Who let this manly world walk all over your bosoms

flattening our your gift of nurture

where blood flows instead of milk

you weak women

who let them destroy your babies

pickling their dicks would make them think twice

then the battle would be on

and without their manhood how could they think

they could come 1^st, 2^nd, 3^rd, even 4^th

dogs would come before them

or run a close 5^th

the veil laid before me and i opened my eyes

the bruises showered me

i spat at nothing but an empty grave

i laid him to rest

like all the others

he chose his death

i chose mine

with every strike my skin grew cold

with every lash

i hardened

i fell

i cut

i broke

i healed

never completely

and my heart crusted

i deserved it

i asked for it

i wanted it to be like this

or i wouldn’t have done IT

whatever IT was

vials cluttered our veranda

and i never noticed

until the veil fell to the floor

and my eyes fell upon the mirror

and my lips shut to the lies

and i ran

and I fell

and I found myself

and I stopped hurting

because he stopped hitting

and I wasn’t there

and soon neither was he

the vials had taken their master away

i watched you walk beyond the hall

into the smoky room

lay down upon the satin sheets

opening wide her blooms

extracting the fruit which covets the mind

and excreting the liquid of life

with the power of the mind

i eyed the Butcher’s knife

i reached in dark to find the blade

to open your eyes of lust

stake you out with sufficient skills

a paragon of disgust

and through the hall my feet shall fall

upon the carpeted floor

and i will kneel and pray to God

before the open door

then wait, my love, for you to see

the jealousy in my eyes

you’ll reach our for the Butcher’s knife

too late, your will’s defied

and through the years you’ll hold the thought

that you had watched me die

and on my grave, one thing will lay

the blood soaked Butcher’s knife
 
 

One day if I remember right

I caught a bee within it’s flight

and held it still within my hands

and ran to show the Graberlands

for Petie Grabe or so was called

had held a wasp within his palm

and smothered it, and bragged about

the way the bee had just passed out

but halfway there, my triumph high

I felt a prick upon my thigh

my eyes then formed gigantic tears

I knew would follow through the years

for all at once I heard the cry

of a hundred bees a buzzin by

and they all turned despite my gaze

the focal point of all their rage

and realizing just what I had done

I opened my hands towards the sun

and there he lay within my palm

no more stings would he live on

and I never made it to the Graberlands

due to the soreness of my stinging hands

and the memory was worth the pain

for the knowledge of bees that I have gained

and to this day I know the cry

of a hundred bees a buzzin by

 How can you love me?

a father who doesn’t even who I am...

How can you love me?

a mother who doesn’t even know why I cry...

How can you love me?

a brother who doesn’t even know himself...

How can you love me?

a friend who doesn’t even know my feelings

How can you love me?

A lover who doesn’t even know my desires...

When you don’t even talk to me.

When you don’t even know me.

How can you love me?
 
 

 To have an ear to listen by,

oh that’s my fond desire

To sit no longer by myself,

my anger mounting higher

To whisper in the softest hues,

and answered not in breath

Would bring to me desirous words,

that linger not on death

Instead I’d be compelled to speak,

on that which fills my heart

Without the sudden outburst,

from a thought that’s ripped apart

No voice would shout but that of mine,

no words except from me

To bless my soul with silent coos,

of that which set me free

Upon the setting of the day,

no echos would I hear

And this would follow in my dreams,

dispersing gentle fears

Of answers not evoked by lips,

that grace the face of this

Yet bring into the sleep of life,

no sleeping beauty kiss

A world made up of thoughts and dreams,

a world made up of we

My one desire, a listening ear,

and it’s companion-me

In my little pink tutu

I can envision a life where the prince is fat

and I also am HUGE

he throws his arms around me

but only before he whispers he must go

I let down my hair and watch him flee

(his promises still lingering)

"I shall return for you my love"

and then I awake

and all I have is me

no pink tutu, just suits (clown suits)

costumes for the masses

no fat prince , just you

with your feeble and harsh words

except that you do flee, and you let down my heart

for yet again, I hear the promise of tomorrow

an apology for yesterday, an expectation of the future

(all of which I must question)

but what I do know is this

I must live with the monster inside and out

until night brings me peace

until night brings my prince
 
 

It happened one hot and sunny day,

my imagination ran away.

We had just gone out to run and play,

and that darn thing just ran away.

Behind my back was where it went,

around a corner right through a fence.

Chasing it was quite a game,

cause after all mine’s not that tame.

Running through gardens, bouncing off walls,

and then I shouted, "STOP, you’ll fall!"

Then it stopped at the top of the hill,

I caught it then, it’s with me still.
 
 

i’m competing with a memory

a ghost form his past

that still haunts my dreams

and walks silently through his

i’m shut out by the world which he has created in his mind

a world where the ice princess is captivating

held up on a pedestal for worldly comparison

she is perfect

and i am nothing

for she is everything

reminded daily of her existence by her portrait in his room

i am to remember

how much better she was that i

how i will never touch his as she could

he lay beside me, and yet i can not reach him

i can not feel him, to let him know he is not alone

that i am not alone

he is barricaded in her memory

i knock at the walls and there is still no response

i hear her voice in my head, as if she truly existed

why can’t he love me?

Why must she be his savior in the darkness?

He waits for her answer in fantasia

worshiping her as a faultless deity

it’s like electric shock therapy

either way i lose

and yet i stay

to know him but for a moment

will be the creating of my fantasia

my little world where he is my perfection
 
 

so i lie here

listening as you speak to her in quiet hushes

detecting every change in your demeanor

yet i know you

no longer the school boy with small town crushes

forced now in the real world

to take on your role as the man who must go on

and yet you shun your very existence

hiding your true self from the woman on the other end

while my naked body hidden by the sheets upon your bed

yearns for merely a single touch of emotion from you

you quiver as you hear her voice rise

only responding to the real you

you subdue your urges to fight back

as i know you would if it wasn’t her

you exchange distant goodbyes

i hear the click upon the receiver

and brace myself for battle

her again

and you no longer

you approach me with a sour look

for i am not her

though i wish sometimes i could be

those times when i hear you giggle on the phone with her

and wonder if i am ever that charming

those times when i hear you sob

imagining it is me on the other end to soothe you pain

those times when you whisper i love you

and i know that she is returning the same greetings

these are the times that i know for myself

that it is truly not you

for you feel no emotion

and can only cause pain

the days that she calls are the days that you fall

farther and farther from me

and yet closer and closer to a nothingness existence
 
 

You tell me if it’s fair

i wait in the room for your arrival

watch as an angel appears before me and sheds its wings

i lie there silent in my process of love

your process of approval

appearing vacant and dismissive

i only crave your touch

a reassurance that i am not alone

i spoon to you, hoping you will fall into my embrace

but as i feared, you conquer my dreads

with the swift lifting of my arms from your body

for after all that has simply just occurred

i am to arise

grab my unemotional facade

and mascarade for you

it is what you want

no strings attached

your wings lie upon the floor,

golden and unspoiled

it too is your mask

hiding the identity of your fears

I shame myself for forcing my lips to touch your so easily

and for allowing you to close your eyes

in my tender embrace

for in the throws of ecstasy,

it is truly not my presence you feel

on your inner eyelids lies her picture of greatness

and yet i am the one who accompanies your desires

and slowly turns to leave

only to return for more

you yearn for that match to perfection

yet that existence is just that, nonexistent

that faded picture that makes tracks around your heart

isn’t even real anymore

slivered pieces are all that remains

merely a dim memory of the before and after scenario

and yet you pursue her

you create a myth of godessness

a deity never known to any other

you build the pedestal

until on day even you can’t see her

and then suddenly she’s there

in the lines of a hallmark card

or in the picture of that new frame

prince charming at her side and shirley temple at her feet

everything hers, except a twinkling remembrance of you

and you’ll dwell

sulking in your self created suffering

your little bit of perfection

the one who got away

now happy with the one who didn’t

the one

whom i’m afraid to break your crystal ball fantasy world to tell you

isn’t you

and never was

I lash out wanting you to feel the same pain

that kind that came as you laid within me

stealing my innocence

that pain that took me

as you walked past in a crowded room

with nothing but a vacant look in your eyes

not even a memory of last night

I want the suffering to eat out your insides

so we’re even

two heartless souls wandering around in a dog eat dog world

I yearn for that blood on my hands

to cut you deeply

preferably in the back

to be as fair as you of course

I want your suffering to cry out

hang you on the noose of deceit you weave

and float in mid air choking on your backward lies of ignorance

you’ll die as you were born

in hate and sin

and image will be the least of your worries then

I never went to funerals

protected by my fears

Instead I played in graveyards

for most my early years

Attended and exceeded

by the gathering procession

At the foothill of the headstone

where I made my last confession

..................................................

No, I never went to funerals

I hold to what I know

And to the eldest of the graveyard

is where I yearn to go

Their age carved out on granite

their life professed in prose

The loving mother-daughter

whose eyes were yet but closed

................................................

 Though I never went to funerals

I held them in my sight

For I chose to play in graveyards

In the moonship of the night

What happened this summer?

Did you forget who brought ya’ll back together the first time...?

Ingrates-I knew I wouldn’t get a thank you

Now it’s the seventh time

Each of you have pain-you’re gonna get hurt

You preach of how life just isn’t fair

Yet you keep beating yourself up and blaming ME!

Blame yourself!! You’re the one who took it back,

you’re the one who consented

You’re a big boy now- no one makes you do anything

Are you looking to hurt each other and somehow find me to blame?

Just suck it and get it over with

I’m tired of I told you so’s

I’m tired of I’ll love you forever’s

Nothing lasts forever-you’ve taught me that

My once bright cheery smile is a dim memory of last week

And I’m just starting on "it’s your faults"

Choke on your own words

Spit out your lies

When you turn blue and purple

We’ll set you outside for scenery

What a dreary day to be locked in chains

Of course you’ve been this way for quite a while haven’t you?

When will you get your next breath?

When will the outside source take her back?

(And she will spit you out)

Sex in many forms: commitments are not in the contract

I bet you could whip it out-she’d be wet in a minute

You best not, I’m sure she might like it-she might get too attached

I might have to show you the difference between a woman and a child

I was saving that for later

It’s failed once, twice, three, four, five, six, seven times

I’m still here now...

Next time you won’t hear me say, "You’ve gotten it up many other times

you’ll get it up again and again and again and again"

Petty excuse for a lover

Sorry excuse for a friend
 
 

Don’t say it, you don’t mean it

color it green, purple, hell red

But you can’t disguise it

You run just as far as your feet can carry you

Fast enough to sweep her up in your arms as you go

Then where is it-where are you?

The operative words "Where are ya’ll?"

You don’t like the word leash

I prefer the word chains!

It’s much more demonic, sensual, sexual

It’s much more BINDING!!!

It’s a hell of a lot funnier

Care-you haven’t learned the meaning

Love-I wish you didn’t have such a sorted definition

but that’s all her fault I guess

or is it mine?

If it wasn’t a leash-it would be a noose

Easy ways out to fly in from the triangle-Yes, I’m talking Bermuda

Was she good-did you cum-was her touch so much for you?

Is that what you’re looking for? A sex goddess, A temple

Here’s your pedestal You dipped it in gold, you sugar coded it!!

Why is it so brassy still? I guess white trash is always white trash

Oh yeah, she deserves it

She also deserves you hurting her like you hurt me

Giving me up for her satisfaction

For her-For that Brassy thing

Was she so great? Did she bring you to orgasm?

I know she didn’t peak-she’s not capable of anything pure or natural...

Definition of a slut...any person willing to let themselves be used!!!

Erasing the color from her eyes

Dull and void without life

Saying your last good-byes

Someone lays claim to the Butcher’s knife

Cold slabs with frozen skin

The meat of many is left

Some marked and some pushed in

A miracle or a theft

Of life, liberty, and of love

To color the others

Give the drawer a shove

Throw over the covers

The clowns lay around with smiles

Permanently glued to their faces

Fixing to travel many miles

And fill their empty spaces

Transfer of souls, the door shuts

The darkness enfolds

The casket

So cold

So they won’t get out

We close the top and then

This time I’m proud

They’ve let me in!

We go see the unpopular shows now...

Always searching for that back row comfort...

Secure in the warmth it offers us...

Vacant lots of loneliness...

Filling with memories...

For sheer enjoyment...

We toy with the lives of the theater employees...

Feeling almost as if we are one of them...

We add the buttery substance...

To the seats of course...

Where else would we put it...

Widening the variety on the floor...

The already plentiful gourmet line-up of...

Gummie Bears, Goobers, and Sweet Tarts...

Parading aimlessly...

tippy toe on the walls...

As workers, we are forced to dispose of them, quickly and quietly...

Now they fly at the screen...

Disappearing (disposing we suppose) into the darkness...

Of the FRONT row...

Darting almost as quickly back at us...

Flying from my hands into the hidden depths of the screen...

Completely understood...

But who would have known they had wings...

To return that is...

(Hey, who is that in the darkness up there?)

This is supposed to be our unpopular movie...

*****************************************************************

On to the next theater we go...

We can’t share with other people...

We must find our own unpopular movie...

Where the havoc is left up to us...

And us alone...

And the Gummie Bears don’t have wings

Listen closely and you will hear

the story of my greatest fear.

At night in bed all by myself

I see the dolls upon my shelf.

Teddy Bear smiles at me

and Suzy Potty goes pee pee.

Teddy Honey blinks his eyes

while Sara dolly sits and cries.

Theres Barbie, Ken, and Annie Sue

who like to dance at half past two.

At three o'clock the soldiers come

each marches in one by one.

The army men from my brothers room

bring their cannons that go kaboom!

They come from the east and come from the west

to see which side can fight the best.

But "that doesn't frighten me" I say

it's after that when I'm afraid.

Cause that's when the man from under my bed

gets upset and pulls out his head.

And from his place I hear him call

"Go Back To Bed All Toys and Dolls".

And this is why I'm scared you see

I'm all alone at half past three.

Yesterday I put on the mask

the kind that kids and clowns wear

just reached into mommy's color world

and plucked a thorn from the roses

what magic it is...

this place of silicone dreams and vanity deamons

that turns your head to the reflector of deities

with thoughtless self-idol worship

I paste this world on like glue that holds until the rains fall...

washing away the mascara of envy that now close my eyes to all...

yesterday I plucked a thorn from the roses

and stuck myself to make a storm cloud

she carried it with her

she cried while she slept

and throughout the village

this evilness crept

it pulled at her heart

and crawled into her dreams

carved out the love

tore her life at the seams

as much as she fought it

it found it's way through

crawling the spaces

that only she knew

erasing the memories

to buffer the thorns

calling the cold

to cover the scorn

and this little child

no memories kept

and many personalities

would blossom when she wept

just disappeared into the cotton walls

baracaded ourselves behind silver buttons and fluffy whiteness

here they come again

the march of the insane

no longer able to justify their once stable meaning of life

no longer able to justify tomorrow

they open the door to let another one in

as if there wasn't enough of us already

as if we need another memory

another yesteryear

another delusion

to clutter our home

to take up our space

they close the padded door

and i see, once again, they've left us with a young one

-a child-

probably born this way, probably alone

first the screams

then the tears

and she too joins us

and they come agian

the march of the insane

no longer able to justify their own stable meaning of life

no longer able to justify tomorrow

they open the door to let her out

but she too must remain with us

the souls of the lost

the souls of the forgotten

the souls af the sane...
 
 
 
 
 
 

Shanna Nicole Mishue