An old dilapidated two bedroom house, Tennessee, the turn of several stages,
Father drinking Heaven Hills whiskey, 2003, I wrapped my body and
slept underneath Peanuts sheets, trying to dream of that Bela Lugosi face
that would haunt me five years forward.
I couldn't yet grow hair on my jawline but it grew in bushes between my knees.
I heard 110 pounds of girl marathon herself up my moaning, creaky stairs,
lit candles burning out in the lving room spilling wax onto the hardwood.
She pushed my door open softly and touched my hair.
She slid the sheets down below my knees and laid in bed with me.
"Who are you?" I asked.
"I'm Mary. They call me the Virgin. I'm stuck in a time-warp."
Her hair smelled of salt-water and her skin felt like the sand dunes.
Her beauty was intact after 6,000 years of brimstone shit.
She started to kiss me.
"Have I done good, Mary?"
"You've done well enough, boy. I traveled a long ways and have no idea where I am. I just want a touch. The touch I've never felt, delivered by a rugged man. I had a child but retained my body, I was told."
I kissed her back and slid her ancient undergarments off her legs - They almost crumpled at my immediate touch. I undressed her of her ancient robes and threw her desert sandles by the closet.
She ran her fingers down the crotch of my jeans, her pinky tickling it.
With what can best be described as finesse she wished my jeans off of me and
grabbed it with her hand, forcing me inside her.
I pushed and pushed and pushed and she cried like a chorus of Purgatory babies thinking "What the fuck?" and I almost stopped.
But she grabbed my backside and forced me closer to her.
I came between her mess and she disapeared.

From April to May, alone for several weeks, sick of Fall leaves and Mesoaic speak,
she told me about the heartbeat flickering insider her Dust Bowl uterus.
I picked her up at the bridge that she temporarily slept under until she found a way
back to her time period with my trouble.
The place was located in a shopping center between a Hibbet Sports and L.A. Tan.
I wrapped her head in a wrap so no one could see those piercing eyes that had
graced across waffles, brick walls, pavement, cloud formations, trees bent into strange positions and other breakfast foods.
She was placed on a mechanical chair with beige plush padding and lights were shined in her face.
"This won't be painful at all, honey," the doctor said.
I slowly crept towards the door, with my tail proudly between my legs and she called for me - "Please hold my hand."
"I'll be right back, I promise."
"Please hold my hand!"
"Mary, I just need a drink of water."
"Please don't leave me!"
I walked out the door and ran down the hallway, avoiding stares by pregnant teenagers, knocked up prison birds, middle-aged women with destroyed wombs, and
I sped out of the parking lot into absolutely nothing.

Years and years between stages of tears I replaced Peanuts sheets with white striped bed trimmings, left the homestead towards city blocks and
shot my brain into fuck.
Four wheels and white shoebox steel that doesn't get me very far.
A girl I cried over until I started implanting salt into my ducts to keep the flow.
I've never learned.
I've never learned.
I walk around with smiles, frowns, eyes and a tongue like I've deserved some form of
pardoned stretch of sun, to rub my skin against decadent fun,
But my stupid parents raised a stupid son.
Poor advice.
"I couldn't yet grow hair on my jawline but it grew in bushes between my knees."

"like a chorus of Purgatory babies thinking "What the ****?" "

deffinately grabbed me. every line was a punch, and then the last line just threw out a hook. damn.
Quote by ottoavist

i suppose there's a chance
i'm just a litte too shallow to consider
that maybe i've been a little more eager
each day to wake up and take a shower
brush my teeth and smile for the mirror
it was powerful, it was great writing, but it doesn't read like a poem or song; it reads like a broken story, which is a shame, because it's got great ideas and could really have something intelligent in it.

problem is, to sum it up, is that it's too fragmented to be a story and too straightforward to be a poem. however, putting that aside, it was amazing; every emotion-filled line felt like a kick connecting straight to the balls and stabbing upwards into my heart.

C4C? links in sig
Quote by circular.parade
^quit the whining and take it as it is ; writing.

it's not whining, it's constructive criticism, and you'll also notice i actually also said what i liked about it.
I actually did some chopping on my latest. It's been forever since I had your opinion on something. I think the last time was "matt and randy's aim crits". lol. Would be nice. Mausoleum in my sig.

The beginning was fairly standard of what I enjoy from you. The last part was the icing on the cake. I was only satisfied with the start, but I was very impressed by the end. The middle section kind of horrified me in a way. I can't really say much else, since I (as always) enjoyed it again.

Since you asked for links, and though all I seem to do is fellate your stuff whenever you post, any comment on my latest one would be appreciated.

This was so good. At the start i was going, "OK, where the hell is this going?" but by the end you had me by the balls and were twisting like a muther****er. one hell of a good read, with a ending htat packs a punch like an enraged bull. Amazing as usual
wow. I just want to say I've really enjoyed the works of pure art Ive been reading from you. Congrats man, you have what ever it is that we all want.

"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear." - from Tao Te Ching

"She slid the sheets down below my knees and laid in bed with me"
I doubt that you need to say "in bed", it feels like you are sort of patronizing the reader, as if we hadn't worked out already that this is a bed.

"I came between her mess and she disapeared. "
Spelled "disappeared".

Apart from those, damn powerful writing.
Last edited by ginjaninja at Dec 11, 2008,
This is so unbelievably touching. You have the mind of wizard who has lost everything to him, but still retained his powers.
touching, really.
Quote by megadeth rule
how do you trip on acid? was your shoelace untied?

Quote by perry589
Mikko, you remind me of a clogged up toilet. You're the poo that won't go away.
Best thing I've read in months. (Claps out loud in an empty room) I'm in love with your words.

Listen to my covers here.

"Some even claim that I'm a terror, a dictator and they're right." - Lou Reed

That was amazingly well written. You should be proud.
Rag Mop Do Do Duh DoDo Dedo Do!!!!!


... Okay. =\ You kinda lost me... but... one idea for a recording, is to like... talk. over some kind of instrument. You know? It could be an intro for an album of shorter songs.

Just an idea.
With enough money saved you will buy a new straw skirt and coconut bikini, a airplane ticket back to civilization and a large Mesa Boogie amp and a Gibson Explorer and shred the faces off with METALLICA!