Abstract Polka Tattoos

...abstract to the facts...

just another bomb threat

I have regrets for,
all the drugs I haven't done yet.
I am upset,
When some one else is making my ex's panties wet.
I forget,
That lonelyness is the only reason we met.
Slide me the tech,
So I can finish this beautiful mess.
As I bench,
These demons off of my chest
With bullets bouncing off,
This superman vest.
Oh, my dear Louis Lane, let me explain.
This S doesn't stand for super,
Na, it stands for survival.
The good die young,
and as you know

I'll live forever an evil liar.
Like I told my boss before I got fired,
I didn't quit
..mother f****r I retire!
Do you get it yet?
My life is a bomb threat,
because no one knows who I am gonna to explode on next.

I am a failing adult, who as a child, Christmas tree'd all the scan tron test.

I never strived to be the best,

a wolf among sheep just trying to blend in

like I was no different from the rest.

AI before the I,

A loser who was born to do s**t,

like a fly,

and what's so good about bye?

Until the next time?

Until this bullet exits the other side,

and ask me if I mind?

Just losing mine...

Tap dancing on a land mine

Yes,

I have regrets,

Broken hearts, baby oil, and sexbets,

turn into,

Just another bomb threat.

Picasso snow

Taking coke hits off silky perky white tits

as membranes do backflips to chemical kung fu kicks

reality is ripped apart

splashed down to form this abstract polka Picasso art

while its off to the cosmos strapped to this rocket ship

that won't quit

lost in the fabric of time

at war with its self

in a never ending search for peace

oh the first hit,

is always a f*****g master piece!

my inner-mission

My greatest trick was to make you think I didn't even exist. I hit you with a boom, pop, and hiss; to the crowd applause and owws as I disappear in an errie mist.

This is followed by the announcer's slightly cackling voice that says in a tone of dread " oh now don't look behind the green curtain, nothing to see here but only death for you, that's for certain." Oh, but we must, I mean, they must know. The suspense is killing them. What's next? The suspense is ripping their heart beating from their chest.

What is indeed next?

As we sip pop and popcorn to the cotton candy machine that methodically churns everything for the price of peanuts. What is next is what comes from stage left while all eyes are on the right's bright green curtain.

but, oh boys and girls and girls that wanna be boys to boys who like other boys here comes a misdirect for certain and now your dead because you lost your balls or at least took your eyes off them for certain as you didn't focus on the f*****g curtain! I told you! That's for certain,

that ain't rain in your ear, I am just pissing,

all over life and that's my inner-mission.

fools' gold.

What is the purpose of a life coach that commits suicide?

Why should we follow unconditionally a blind guy?

We can see the trees, but still get lost in the forest.

We're always about that quick cash, while someone is eating all our porridge.

Individualism is beauty, but oddity is horrid?

Who makes these rules for us fools?

Why do we allow this, incompetence?

Why do we act like we don't know, that they don't care about us at all.

Bridges are sold every day.