Chronic Ritual


Lying by the fire
Fueling my desire

Pouring tears on the ground
Behind a mask I found

Kissing gusts of wind
In hopes it gets to him

Calling out his name
In the winter rain
So lonely

Holding me so tight
In the dead of night

Dying by the hand
Of an older man

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Make Your Pain My Own

I want to hold onto the distraught woman who gave birth to a miniature cadaver
While she tries to convince herself it was a figment of her imagination
For I know denial makes it easier to bare
So make your pain my own

I want to hold onto the stoic man who broke my heart then left to find something else to do
While he tries to overcome his insecurities without putting down his walls
For I know it’s impossible to have my cake and eat it too
So make your pain my own

I want to hold onto the vengeful woman who never turns the page of stories that has long since been burned
While she tries to live with the awful things she has done
For I know forgiveness is a hard thing to learn
So make your pain my own

I want to hold onto the naive man who believes it’s okay to force himself to belong with a hateful family
While he witnesses his hopes and dreams crumble to the floor
For I know it may not be lonely to stay and pretend they love me
So make your pain my own

I want to hold onto the guilty man who gave into lust and lost everything he once cared about
While he comes into terms with the consequences of his actions
For I know the past cannot be revised by doubt
So make your pain my own

I want to hold onto the past that’s submerged in my tears
While it hopelessly tries to learn how to breathe without air
For I know nothing lasts forever as happiness fades through the years
So make your pain my own

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Getting Off

It was mid-April and the morning dew gleamed with promise.
I remember when you spun me in your arms like your offspring –
Yet we walked hand in hand playing alongside a dream we sing.
Your visions were seldom all they seemed as your presence was amiss.
You lived in a bleak future and a troublesome past void of bliss.
I preferred to live in the present where I accepted that Winter causes Spring.
Hardship brought you down while it brought me down on ashen knees to present you a ring.
Our locked eyes glistened as the sunset cast forth bright hues dissolving our subtle kiss.

At times you’d wander away from our sanctuary underneath the emerald canopy.
Foreign beauty led you astray beyond the precipice of where the water cascades.
Life insisted we aboard a rollercoaster ride but your love was only visible upon its zenith.
I ran after you once we got off until my heart heaved with shortness of breath.
I reached for your brawny hands with its bumpy veins protruding like blades.
In the land of gods and monsters I am now an angel clinging to the past and you are the master of inevitable death.


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Truth Serum

When I was 6,

I wished I was a newborn,

When all I worried about was eating, sleeping,

And excreting waste,


When I was 10,

I wished I was 6,

When all I was afraid of was going to grade school for the first time

And missing my mom until I returned home,


When I was 14,

I wished I was 10,

When all I thought about were the terrifying times I spent alone with my stepdad

And missing my mom until she returned home,


When I was 18,

I wished I was 14,

When all I reminisced about was how I secretly enjoyed being abused like a masochist

And missing the only sexual escapade I had throughout my school years,


When I was 21,

I wished I was 18,

When I was forced to be exiled┬ábecause my mom thought my dad’s replacement made me gay

And hoping there was more to life than this,


When I am 30,

I will wish I was 21,

When all I can recall will be how my ex-fiance severely broke my heart

And how he wonderfully psychologically tormented me,


When I am 39,

I will wish I was 30,

When I’ll realize that I am the same age as when my first love left in peace

And left me in pieces,


When I am 50,

I will wish I was 39,

When I can remember fondly how agile and resilient I once was

And wondering how I didn’t kill myself a lot sooner


When I am 69,

I will not look back anymore,

For dementia will┬áconsume my mind’s occupancy leaving behind┬áthe fact that my age will be one of my favorite sexual positions

And in total relief that I will die any day now





*Make sure to take advantage of the eBook sale going on now! From now* until December 26th at 8:00PM, you can buy The Pandemonium Chronicles for only $0.99! (usually $2.99)

This sale is to celebrate the release of my new book, Trials and Tribulations!

Cycle of Hurt

When will the cycle of hurt end?

Distorted beauty hard to mend.

Broken homes white elephants,

Due to revenge and pelvic dents

Source of vampire’s elixir,

Heartbreak dependence to liquor,

Numb the pain traumatic moments,

Due to revenge and pelvic dents,

Abscond the miasma once more,

Yearning to leave but too damn poor,

Trapped complacent establishments,

Due to revenge and pelvic dents,

Past and future doesn’t exist,

Standard deviations persist,

The mean reflects our achievements,

Due to revenge and pelvic dents

Vintage Misery

Theft of a spiritual land is a heinous crime,
Coerced the Natives farther and farther west,
Until they prostrated straight into the Pacific,
Rebellious youth breaks away from its parent kingdom,
Wanted a better life and to enact more fair traditions,
Apples don’t fall too far from the tree however,
Male spectres ruled The New World for quite some time,
Added on to their thievery while kidnapping shadows in Africa,
Forced into manual labor due to repercussions of an estranged nation,
History repeats itself for salvation recalls unsubtle truths,
Shadows are people too and so are daughters of Eve,
Nothing is an issue until catastrophy ensues,
Women’s Rights were next took so long to acknowledge their humanity,
One by one minority groups gradually rose to the zenith,
Sodomized marriage became legal just recently now we know what’s next,
Losing our minds psychological dissociation,
Let’s just skip the steps and accept that we’re all human,
Race and gender and religion and sexual orientation,
Every single person is subject to trials and tribulations regardless,
Perhaps I must wait longer for society to catch up to my mental calibre,
Don’t hold your breath for only immortals and history buffs are ahead of the times,
Blood moons are malevolent omens condemned to detriment,
Deleterious and magnanimous anomalies are both temporary,
If we focused on amelioration rather than portraying a jury,
Mankind will still garner hope for equality like it should have during genesis

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In distress

Part two of Damsel

A stained piece of parchment had been delivered to the king’s residence. A servant, whose domain was the front lobby, found it odd that the letter had nothing written on the outside. Usually a note’s exterior donned the name of who it’s from and who it’s addressed to. A turquoise insignia was melted onto the paper to seal it securely. He immediately made his way through the radiant labyrinth of mess halls he knew so well after 15 years on the job.
Upon entering the king’s chambers, the servant still clasped the bronze doorknob even after the fact to see the queen nursing herself back to health again. Her face was painted black and blue from a palette of limited colors. She gasped at the sound of the doorhinges being swung on its axis in fear of her loving tormentor.
Oh dear, he thought to himself, the king is drunken on the shipment of ale that arrived early this morning…. So he went by her side, standing near the window outlooking the courtyard in the center of the kingdom’s folly. Perhaps this letter held the contents of news that could cheer her up, the servant thought to himself before nonchalantly handing it to her.
A quick smile flashed on his face for just a split second like most people do when they sympathize with someone. But the queen didn’t imitate it for she wasn’t as positive and hopeful as he was.
A letter opener had been picked up off her husband’s study to carefully unfasten the piece of parchment. Together they both peered at the words scribbled in haste saying, “Have you wondered where your daughter was all day? In case you were, I’ll have you know I have your precious little girl. Meet me at the dock in Cape Forke by dawn with one million shillings or your kingdom will suffer a great loss.”
No! Terror was paved on her face. Tears streamed down in waves. Her manservant lended his royal highness his handkerchief before beginning his departure to find the king for aid. But she already knew this and forcefully grabbed his arm and shook her head fast.
Instead of alerting the king of the sudden leap of absence, they managed to make it to the vault where all their gold and other worldly possessions stayed covered in dust. The queen filled up bags and bags of shillings as the servant held a wheelbarrow in place until there was as much as the kidnapper desired. All while the queen snifled every few seconds in realization that her daughter was in grave danger! As if she wasn’t already under the king’s rule.
Both of them stealthily journeyed through the halls without getting detected by another soul. The queen eventually reached the back doorway trailing behind her servant before lightly closing the doors behind her. But incidentally, they were left open just a crack.
Dawn neared its approach into that day’s existence. The zenith of darkness before light would encase their world once more. The wheels of the wooden wheelbarrow skipped on the planks on the dock like a schoolboy skipping towards the playground. Once they nearly reached the outstretched hand of the Cape, they stopped midway before a ship pulled into view. The woodsman tied his boat onto the dock’s edge.
The queen and her only friend watched anxiously as the mysterious man rudely ushered his captive into plain sight. A sob held in since opening the ransom note rushed out of the mother’s mouth in uncontrollable bursts. Isra wasn’t even crying nor struggling for her freedom, however. So at once, the servant began to make his way to the kidnapper with that he was requested to give him.
Suddenly, the Sun finally managed to peek out into view, blinding the criminal temporarily. Isra snatched the dagger from his makeshift robe-belt, stabbed the evil man square in his chest, grabbed the wheelbarrow and all its contents, ran back onto the boat, and cut the robe tying her to her past before sailing away.
The mother yelled fearfully, reaching her hand out towards the distant ship sailing off into the horizon, her hope getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared altogether. She would have probably dived into the ocean if it wasn’t for her manservant holding her back. So the queen sink onto her bruised knees with a yelp of pain, fully aware that she had to go back to the king empty handed.

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Isra was such an odd name for a child, especially one from royal descent. At a ripe age of 13, such high expectations were placed on her for she would be the Queen someday.
However, she differed from her mother in many ways. Children should be seen and not heard,┬áno one ever let her forget it. Her mother constantly reminded her that it’s always been that way. Rebellious preludes slowly tore Isra away from her family.
Her mother’s vacant, grey eyes bore into her before the curtain call. Any talk of adult things drowned out Sunday’s sermon with the help of locked doors.
The princess grew annoyed with being ignored. Sounds of anguish reverberated from the other side. Screams of agony emanated from the living alcove. But only her parents were in there. No kings of foreign nations. No queens of Saigon bent on revenge.
Perhaps some wars were fought at home.
Her long, blonde hair swayed valiantly as she jolted towards her bedchambers to collapse in seclusion. But before she reached her anticipated destination, Isra decided to trek out of the castle grounds instead. The bellowing wind sighed when the main doors were pushed wide open in a frenzy.
A lot of Isra’s studies were indoors and free time was hard to come by. But whenever leisure left holes in her daily routines, she treasured the outdoors. Birds intrigued her the most due to their fragile yet omnipresent nature. Wings granting the ability of flight, able to fly away at any time.
A bluejay landed on her index finger while she meandered down a hidden dirt path protruding from the open space and into the emerald canopy stretched over her. It bobbed its head instinctively in that awkward movement that most animals have mastered. Melodic chirping made Isra giggle soundlessly. Inevitably, it let go and dove into the open blue towards the heavens from whence it came.
Where the light recently bled through the openings made from newly bloomed leaves on outreached branches, a rush of cold air undulated heavily until it was as if the moon took its place prematurely.
Suddenly, a handsome yet middle-aged man stood against the bark of an evergreen tree. Obsidian locks spilled out of his hood. His hair may have been long but there was no essence of femininity surrounding his persona at all. Green eyes peeked out from beneath the fathoms of his robes.
The young girl’s mouth formed an “O.” All the air had been sucked out her lungs yet vehement attempts occurred to regain all oxygen. Fear took its toll. Isra saw the foreigner reach lucratively for a dagger held snugly in the robe tied around his slender waist. She didn’t wait for him to take anymore steps closer than he already had. Thank the Lord Isra chose not to wear the uncomfortable heels her mother wanted her to that day. These wooden shoes sufficed for running away from strangers in the woods. She dared to peek behind her to acknowledge that he didn’t even budge. Her glance aimed forward once more, but to her utmost dismay, Isra tripped over a makeshift snare. Ultimately, the snare enacted a net to snatch the princess straight from the earth to mid-air. A ravenous shriek escaped her chapped lips. The woodsman, she realized he was, strutted towards her before her vision failed her….

(To be continued in… “In Distress”)

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I’ve survived worse

Abused in every possible way,
Isn’t life wonderful and great?
But I can still smile everyday,
There’s no need to hold grudges and hate,
Penance is free it’s never too late,
To let things go like Elsa taught us,
Losing faith in the idea of a soulmate,
I’ve survived worse no need to fuss,

Everyone thinks it’s easy to cope,
Because they can’t even begin to understand,
How hard it is to still have hope,
Just to get out of bed and to make a stand,
Everyone takes my arm whenever I offer a hand,
I would be a hypocrite but at least I wouldn’t be a wuss,
Now I am grown maybe I’ll start a band,
I’ve survived worse no need to fuss,

Trust issues and paranoia are my favorite trends,
So used to betrayal both betrayer and betrayed,
So who am I to be vengeful when I’m on the receiving ends?
Life is short and unfair cliches never astrayed,
Survival is success for rape won’t stop me from getting laid,
Never again will I have to step foot on a school bus,
Doesn’t matter anymore for people always tend to fade,
I’ve survived worse no need to fuss,

Now I deal with the repercussions of my past,
My legacy is everlasting self-reflection is a must,
Who will I let in next? Will they ever last?
I’ve survived worse no need to fuss

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An EPIC tale of a new love

The king went insane from his grief,
His past was full of turmoil and fear,
No one has yet found the key to his heart,
Something happened to him that I’ve yet to comprehend,
He laid in his bedchambers in utter seclusion,
His touch grew cold his posture quite wary,
The maids and manservants catered to his every need,
I like to think his problems stemmed from a time prior to I,
Personally I try not to take his cruel proclamations,
But his pain had began to spread from his veins into mine,
Like a double-edged IV his misery became mine,
From his post I witness his wreathing agony,
As The Queen I felt it was my duty to enact an ordinance of peace,
So I convinced all the townspeople to help prepare a party,
To enlighten his spirits and repair the other half of his life,
His breath his movement his consummation implied nothing,
A feast had been prepared by the kingdom’s most prestigious cooks,
Down the hall I heard my lover scream for relief,
I jolted down the corridors to find his alcove was bolted shut,
I clawed and banged the wooden entryway til my hands bloody raw,
But what I wanted soon become the opalescence of my terror,
The doors gradually opened before a flash of rubicund ascended,
His eyes flashed the color of blood as a growl echoed everywhere,
It seems the darkness that shrouded his past became him,
Usually mistaken for power to me was really total weakness,
The King was not strong enough to resist the compulsion of Satan,
Tears fell as eyeliner and mascara was ruined in the process,

I ran with all my might no longer caring about the party I planned,
Rummaging through the closets I packed my necessities,
The back door and over the moat to my horse I thought I’d be,
But a handsome man stepped in my path leading to the unknown,
He said he could relate to my garnishing love of The King,
He was the king of a faraway land who received my invitation,
But how can he understand my dilemma if he never been in love,
The demon that stole my husband from me must be on his way down,
This beautiful man speaking to me had no idea what was going on,
But his beacon of hope and desire to love for the first time soothed,
Ignorant he was not naive he was not yet his longing was real,
I admired his angellic intentions I swear I almost forgot The King,
But Satan was hovering down each step down the staircase,
I knew now that the townspeople were doomed to die,
But the new king and I still had a chance to flee and survive,
Quickly I warned him of the imminent danger,
He said it was okay to leave the others behind,
My reign as queen of peace needed to cease its discord,
No longer did I feel it was my responsibility to cure the world,
Some people will never listen and must suffer in silence,
If they learn the hard way or decease trying,
Those choices were theirs’ to bear and not meant to be my burden,
So we fled the scene and rode the horse to another uncertainty,
An unpredicted solution that didn’t involve my self-inflicted demise,
The amount of love I posessed was never enough for The King,
Due to the fortress of disdain he had crafted to repel me,
Blood ran deep with us but Satan will forever feed on his anguish,

This new love I garner for the suitor I kept at bay for two years,
Became the very person that renewed all my faith in love,
His playfulness his masculine beauty his hope filled me up,
With joy and desire that I thought withered away long ago,
Green eyes told me it was time to go and leave the past behind,
That it was okay that I failed to save my former love,
It wasn’t my responsibility to begin with and now I’m free to explore,
Because the kindgom and its king was all I knew about life,
So I guess I’m not wise as much as I let on,
But now things have changed for the better,
I was so used to letting The King dominate our union,
This new love of mine lets me take control and is open to my efforts,
To bestow peace upon a new land despite the destruction of the last,
My new lover confides in me and acknowledges me for who I am,
I no longer feel obligated to hide my feelings and emotions,
Now I can hand The New King the keys to my heart,
This man is different whenever we disagree even his anger is bliss,
I realize I must love him no matter how much we argue,
I know now that this new love is an alabaster pristine ruler,
And I must never hurt him no matter what plot twists ensue,
Not all men are like my first love there are kings out there who do have hearts,
Never give up on finding someone whom you rightfully deserve,
Not only Queens are entitled to having feelings and emotions,
I will admit I, myself, am a king as well,
My big heart shouldn’t classify me as a woman but as the man I truly am,
So my new love and I will both be kings amongst a new world of self-discovery,
The townspeople will live in peace and not in fear ever again