Is a coward a coward for running away
Or for promising to fight in the first place?

I’m a disjointed memory of what used to be
A smear of the cracks of history
I’m a stain of our fractured artistry
A monster of the inbetween

Like the joke of the broken and despised
A line left said, but unmemorized
I’m a lonely gust blowing gently by
A lying gentleman’s alibi

It feels like I’m a sailor
A drunken ship fairer
No sea-legs but a savior
Of a hideous captain’s failure

A degenerate left ashore to rot
By the karma that this man has wrought
He’s a divided hope who is brought
By the misguided bliss he has sought

Booze and smoke
Cling to your skin,
The vapor of
A thousand-wasted-nights has-been.
Is this what it means
To be a celebrity?
You’re a supernova,
Rock & roll star.
All you want
Is to be adored.
You’re an unfulfilled hope
And nothing more.
You’re gum on the pavement
Of Hollywood boulevard.
A wound of society
Soon to be scarred.
Your ethanol breath
And flammable veins
Will soon ignite
On your burnout dreams.
Your marijuana mind
And faded form
Sink deeper and deeper
Into the hotel floor

Don’t make me laugh.
It only hurts
When I laugh.
My sides are split
Like the cut on my lip,
And it’s difficult to chuckle
Anymore.
What a funny joke!
I love when the punchline
Is a low blow.
I’m crying…
I’m crying…
From laughing so hard.
How did you ever manage
To get so smart?
You’ve got me giggling good,
Like only you could.
But before
I start rolling
On the floor,
Pull the knife
From my back.
Dear God…
There are no good comedians
Anymore.

But remember:
The bullet bites back.

I know, I know, I became the villain somewhere along the way. At first, I was just that awkward little boy, the one you fell for, the one who wanted to please. Yes, I was sometimes selfish, sometimes stupid, but I meant well. I knew how to love, how to embrace love, I wanted to show it, and I did. When I found love, I was generous. And while I wanted to make the world better, I thought you were perfect.

Then I became aware of my awkward nature, I learned I was a child. This terrified me. I saw myself as an amalgam of shortcomings. I began to suppress myself, to cover what I saw as weakness. I was driven by fear. And while my body became longer, stronger, my chest covered in hair, my soul became weaker. I was an infant. I fell into my dark side, became much less Jeckyll and far more Mr Hyde.

I thought I was supposed to be a man, but I never learned how. I began to fear women. I thought they could sense my feminimity, that I was a newborn chick. I thought they would hate me for it. I began to be vile to members of the opposite sex, even to my own mother. Let me rephrase, especially to my own mother. I started to dismiss her and argue, I attempted to pull away from her in a misthrown hail-mary toss at masculinity.

One point of specific aggravation was my virginity. I equivilated my lack of sexual experience with a lack of ability to be a man. When I “failed” at it with the one I loved, twice, I loathed myself more. I found it hard to look you in the eye, I thought you were judging me, that you saw me as less-than. You see, I saw intercourse as some sort of transformative experience that, once accomplished, would allow me to hatch from my adolescent shell and emerge as a happy, well-adjusted man. It was only after I had sex (with someone I didn’t even know) and felt more miserable than ever, did I realize how wrong that notion was.

Towards the end of our relationship, I became a really bad lover. I still wanted to please, but didn’t know how. I gained bad habits, started to lose the ability to listen; I was too distracted by my percieved weakness. “Men aren’t supposed to be weak,” I thought, “So why am I?” After you left, I became my ultimate form of evil. I became capable of doing vile, terrible things without so much as a blink of an eye. I still can and, I hesitate to say, do.

I’m just a kid, but I’m already haunted by a past. I’ve spent far too many sleepless nights thinking of what might’ve been, what I think should’ve been. I still find it hard to close my eyes without seeing your face, next to numerous others. I torture myself with my mistakes, yet I don’t seem to truly learn. A true sadomasochist. I seem to rarely be sober, and I seem to like myself even more rarely.

And while I’ve honed the art of faking it, at deceiving and manipulating, I doubt my ability to truely make others happy. How can I when I’m not myself? Yes, I can be charming and a rather good conversationalist, but so can the devil. So I avoid legitimate relationships and I don’t love anymore. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I can’t allow myself to get that close to people when I’m arsenic.

But when will I grant myself penance for my sins? Will I always suffer in my own special hell? Is that what all villains deserve? To rot in the bed they made with their mistakes? Perhaps. But at least I’ve finally learned the truth: I’m a child. I’m still a little boy. And that’s okay.

We are the young and the beautiful
Watch us tear ourselves apart

You’re alright, Kid
Don’t let them take away your smile
It’s okay to laugh every once in a while

I can see the glint of a chuckle
Just behind those big eyes
A twinkle from the light
Of life’s many cruel jokes…

And it’s okay to love
Every once in a while
I know, I know
You’ve been hurt by it before
And guess what
It’ll hurt again

‘Cause love has thorns
And its thorns a wonderful toxin
That paralyzes you,
Consumes you,
Leaves your chest tight,
As you gasp for breath
Begging for another sniff
Of this roses’ sweet scent…

Oh,
And it’s okay to be free
Always
‘Cause, trust me,
They’ll try to own you
Possess you
Claim your everything
Put you in a frame
And hang you on a gallery wall

Don’t let them
Never let them defile you
With the graffiti of their greed
Scrub away those marks
For they don’t really love’ya
If they can’t love’ya clean

You’re alright, Kid
Just the way you are
So stay true to yourself
And I swear you’ll go far