I've come to suck your BLOOD

I can't
this place is stale, rotting...
I can't
I can't move any longer like a snake making the same mistakes, biting it's own tail; like a child without a Mother or Father to hold her in times of pain
I can't
I can't do this any longer, marking the words of one's past and ensuring that it lasts
I can't do this any longer, this place is stale....where I have been & keep going back to,
Wondering if the taste will change with time.

I stand & wonder if the Earth has anything else to feed me; because I feel hungry, Mother.
This place is dripping from the seams with sadist content, I just can't any longer.

Jesters with masks, they all performed so well. Who are you trying to impress tonight?
Did you practice 3 days a week; made sure all the instruments were tuned and intact.
Did you go through your whole week leading up to tonight, missing the days gone by because all you were thinking of was tonight and how you will look, how you will sound, who will be there to make you smile, make you feel something you don't know for your self?
But excuse me, you can't give something you don't have and you can't fool me ! 
I was bored after seeing all of your expressions and emotionless movements.
You are just good at performing & a performance is cheap and prone to mechanical disease.
My pockets are empty, only keys clinking like handcuffs reminding me of my life that I signed up for. Sigh, this isn't even what I want.
 Pinned, trying to dance & sing my way free from these shackles that bind me.

I bought my first pack of cigarettes last night, because the thought & act of smoking a cigarette would bring me closer to You and it was my only option at that point. It worked, for what it was. The aroma brought me back where I was looking to be. The nicotine; love drunk and ready to close my eyes from all of this. I have loved the smell of a cigarette when it is first lit; ever since I can remember. But, I just always knew it was bad news to smoke. As a docent young girl in the backseat of the car, I liked it; a lot.  & I have always loved the way smoke lifted like a snake from the burning end. There wasn't anyone there that I wanted to speak to or even be by. I tried talking to a dude dressed up as Edward Scissorhands and he just stared at me. I'd tell a story or joke and of course I'd laugh at myself but most of the time people just stare at me. So, instead; I sat and admired all the people in the building. All the costumes and people dancing, like a fly on the wall; I sat. But there was no one there to sit with and be with. There wasn't anyone there to share my mind with. So, I left and smoked a cigarette on the way home and tried listening to music that'd take me where I needed to be. I felt more embraced in the darkness of my car with the smoke circling in and through me. A cool wind flowing through my windows and the thick fog surrounding me as I moped on down the 46. I felt more embraced in that 40 minutes then I did in that establishment filled with jokers & thieves. I needed something last night. I needed something; I really did. Maybe it was just myself and I've been looking for Me in all of You. But come to find out, Me is kinda boring and really fucking weird. I'll probably say something to hurt you and you'll end up not liking me anyways. I'll make you think twice about yourself & what you believe to be true; because that's all I do in my free time.  I'll jump up and down like a child because all this energy in me just needs to be released. I'll dance with my arms wide and swinging; along with my hips and winged feet. But I still feel alone even when the Stars, Moon and Sky are dancing with me. There is just no comparison of shared union with your same species. With someone that has a mind of yours and with someone whose heart beats in tune with you.  But I'm serious, who wants to hear theories about human evolution & talk about aliens, or poke fun at each other and laugh at our dumb selves & the dumb shit we do. I'm still feeling lonely and the cheap substitutes I keep bringing in don't last very long. They are stale in comparison and it seems that all I can afford these days is just that. Cheap and fast.

Milk Maiden; please Save Me

I just can't do this anymore...my seat is beckoning me to get off of it and reach for another place to be. The whispers have gotten to me and have created cracks and seals in my skull that make my head pound with anger and guilt-ridden anxiety. How am I supposed to live up to these expectations when I am stuck in 2nd degree waiting for the blind to see me. How am I supposed to live with grace when all I am doing is scrubbing clean the fountain that you truly, and I mean truly only see as dirty. Where is the branch that fell and hit you on the head back when you thought you had it all figured out and had it all typed up ready for press and print, all to see, all to read and misinterpret degenerately. For fuck's sake, this service has gotten me spinning in circles. Set up, eat up, clean up. I am paying for this, I am paying you, I am giving my time here to be looked at with critical glasses and never enough glances. And I left all behind me to pay my dues for the paycheck that comes with clocking in and clocking out day in & through. Driving to and from, here early, running late...running in circles, never really feeling the actual date. Your fortress has been cracking at it's seams for some time and you never seem to really fill those cracks up with ease. The truth seeps and wanders down the blades of your shoulder and helps you to think that maybe all this back-breaking work is worth something, enough to wonder? All this blood, sweat, and tears is what you are actually after. But the day goes on and the work must be done in order to produce the affect that we need. To produce something that was never needed to begin with. Busy work, work of the devil, work of the malice that seemed to be gaining an ounce of freedom and sanctity. Consuming your very heart for food on the table, addictions relayed and Netflix or some dumb cable reality T.V. How about a remodeled kitchen, new floors, and a trip overseas. Is this all you ever wanted ? And what about the tales lurking in the shadows, did you ever read them and think that maybe this is why you can't seem to stop and look at your life honestly? No, really...just stop and do nothing. But rather use things, fill it up with white flour, eggs, dairy and cheese. The milk of the Maiden, here to comfort your dis-ease. Here to cradle you in her bosom and let you rest her head on top of pasty-white cottage cheese thighs; a suit made only for milking everything under the Sun in soured distrust and needy lust. I wasn't made for this, but you made me believe the tale you've passed on through generations of recipes and sentimental tendencies. I could easily burn everything around me and feel more free than I ever have, even with you looking at me. Even with you worrying about me, especially.  A rebel with a cause, a fighter with no more than a tear left to add to endless Sea of never enough's and hey, look at me, Ma & Pa ! I want to live like a Tree and swim in the Sea, without an agenda of sorts or a need for pity and sympathy. I want to attend my own Party, where flowers grow wild and ideas are thrown into the sky and lost in the endless Galaxy of my own beating heart, with glittery giggles and tears made of salt water.