Ultra-Evil You

You don’t know me
You never even tried
You never cared for me
You only spent and lied.

You only think of yourself
You trapped me by being sly
You will never be anything real
You make the Universe cry.

You are less than nothing
You are ultra-evil inside
You emptied my once full life
Your soul has already died.

Spewing Lies

Shut up, stand up,
and get the fuck out.
I have no more time,
for your spewing spout.

You’re really not that smart,
and don’t have much class.
Please let the door,
crash into your ass.

Don’t ever come back,
keep your black lies.
If I see you again,
one of us dies.

Alone Clone

We all suck dick,
and we’re all fucking whores.
If the pay is enough,
get down on all fours.

If the need for cash,
wasn’t the way,
What on Earth,
would we do with our day?

The future I see,
we’re never alone.
When it’s time to work,
send in the clone.

Naturally Evil Friend

You are naturally evil,
no special effort required.
If I lie even a little I die,
and may my jaw be wired.

The things you do and say,
are done with selfish intention.
The victories you now claim as your own,
were all of my invention.

Your every little step forward,
is standing on the foot of a friend.
Little do your new friends know,
befriending you is the beginning of their end.

 

 

Gleening Grin Reepers

welcome to death the darling and dashing grin reeper gleened,
through very attractive masks with the enticing demotiv shy grin,
popular lore is wrong about transition it’s not at all what you believe,
we’ve been expecting your imminent arrival so do please come right on in.

here the choice is yours to choose heaven or hell and there’s no going word backs,
we grin reapers are here as your subconscious guides to give you the final choice tour,
please proceed beyond the red rope to the vip line for the transport to hell on the two way traxx,
your friends have been eagerly a waiting for your shadow because for what they ill you are the cure.

the car was wall to wall red velvet with plishy cushions for your recently transformed perfect ass,
drinks were served all the way down by a mile high qualifier and they tasted like a sweet quest,
when our gates to hell glided open there was a surprising bash of your favorite foie gras,
to your surprise with a dash of demise were faces just as you remembered them best.

instead of dark and deadly you see hot and sexy among rolling hills and cool clubs,
there is no fire or brimstone and instead more sin with perfect tone and lashes,
no teeth gnashing and instead they get to be dragged over ass & bare backs,
it’s all golf courses and hot tubs with scantily clad servant lads and lasses.

this doesn’t seem so bad you tell yourself as the drink begins its zings,
you finally begin to understand and sorta start to like the gleen grin.
because as far as you can see it really can’t get better than this,
everything ever wanted with just a taint of unforgivable sin.

just to be sure you have to check and take the rest of the tour,
the round trip traxx car was a little plain and nothing good was served,
as far as you are concerned nothing served shouldn’t be part of your de jour,
the door swished open and there was no welcome but you barely noticed or observed.

eventually you ask the grin reaper where’s saint-what’s-his-name and the answer is a shrug,
oh well you tell your self you are probably not staying anyway and splif just then they appeared.
welcome he said as he cracked open and fingered the reaper ‘he’s can’t look in here, he is a bad drug’.
you float right in like you own the space that you’re flying in but the air is smeared with something weird.

you tell yourself this is kinda cool with weightless decisions & an aerial view not possible down there,
just as your second guess is coming something crazy happens that makes the final decision easy,
everyone you know that wasn’t down there standing in rows that looks like a triangle sphere,
they too appear just as you remember them with anger glowing eyes and looks of queezy.

The first few rows are who loved you and they all have their heads bowed in disgrace,
the rest held high heads because they’ve been waiting as long as the friends below,
the rows behind hold those whom you lied and who lost in your one person race,
the long row in back are those you royally fucked over just a short time ago.

to hell with us you say to your guide and check back in your temp wing,
the air up here if filled with fear and there is not not much to do here.
then the ones you stole emotions from started to cheer and sing,
in decent you sensed something different in the form of a tear.

the car disappeared and replaced with a caged cargo elevator,
the only button to press is down and it’s always the right size,
you wet yourself seeing that your greeter was hell’s mayor,
always try to choose your friends and muses very wise.

Giggles and Fire

It seems so natural,
wanting your hurt.
You think I love you,
I only flirt.

You say that you’re helping,
and just show up.
But all that you do,
is slurp from my cup.

Your existence is optional,
from my perspective.
I’ve opened my mind,
to be more selective.

You wake every morning,
to the scent of my breath.
Wanting a kiss,
wishing for death.

When you turn,
from ashes to rust.
We”ll scrape you right up,
nothing but dust.

A creature of habit,
is what you’ve become.
We’ll set you on fire,
and giggle as you run.

 

Gasoline Shower

I would gladly give my life,
to rid you from this world.
The lines will become straight,
and circles will become curled.

Heaven doesn’t want you,
and hell is why you’re running.
Angels cry when they hear your voice,
and the devils think you’re stunning.

I don’t know what you are,
I no longer even dare to care.
Shower yourself with this gasoline,
and wait right here for the flare.

 

Skin Peeling Hate

I built a pile with all of your things,

then set it on fire with gasoline.

 

Who are you now with nothing to show?

No one to show it to and nowhere to go?

 

We beg that you throw yourself on top of your stuff,

doing it right now is not nearly soon enough.

 

I wish you weren’t here inside my head,

peeling off your own skin until you are dead.

 

Everyone hates you and even your guts,

it does not matter that you’re totally nuts.

 

It would make us feel better if you’d just go and die.

we’re not alone on this so go ahead and try.

 

It’s obvious we hate you and there’s nothing left to say,

when I close my eyes do anything but stay.

 

I never knew sorrow until you entered my life,

I never could love you so please hand me the knife.

 

I’ll cut out your tongue and nail it to the floor,

you’re nothing to me now not even a whore.

The Evil in Your Eyes

The world in your eyes,
must be painful to see.
Nobody loves you,
you’re as alone as can be.

I’d gouge out my eyes,
before I’d let them meet yours.
You have less value,
than a room full of dead whores.

I never want to see you again,
or ever hear your name.
Things may have been different,
if you were only insane.

I rinse my eyes with bleach,
after seeing your face.
You have more evil in a glace,
than the entire human race.

Fuzzy Token Expectations

Just because you want to love me it doesn’t give you verse.
I don’t love you now and most definitely never will.
I won’t love anyone and it only gets worse,
like all the others you do it still.
You really don’t know me,
but love me now like a pill.

If I live the life you want,
only you will ever be happy.
You can’t possibly love me,
I’m your fuzzy shadow fantasy.

It’s not the answers on your tray,
it’s your fault I’m not what you seek.
It’s the questions you never seem to say,
you’re welcome to try and peek.

This is the end of something,
that never really began.
You can’t be loving,
it only works with a human.

Expectations can only be broken,
it may be better to live the illusion,
When you think of my nature as token,
it’s the truth I wish for inclusion.

Plucking Angels

Your name is written up in the sky,
in big and bold dripping red letters.
Written with the feathers of angels,
dipped in your blood for all the betters.

An angel falls every moment,
quill plucking itself to death.
They pluck until they no longer fly,
or until they run out of breath.

You die a little with every stroke,
the well will soon run dry.
If it doesn’t, for each of your breaths
there are a thousand angels waiting to try.