[Mr. J]

My mind settles on the page & hope whittles away.
It could leave an opponent enraged with little to say.
In the middle the claims start to become outrageous.
The testing follows, prepping up the sound stages...
Who could claim such synchrony existed? How time flies.
How cruel it is to pace about with the blind eyes.
Rewind..I'm fine...sometimes the irregularities get to me.
Ever since the great crash the world doesn't make sense to me.
Now I know what comes first like parentheses....
Society is in a free fall while another dumb bitch tries to get next to me.
The aroma of strawberry yogurt arouses my senses but I got text to read.
Got a lot of threats to meet, before I hide the body & Jekyll me.
But now every other moment...well that doesn't make sense to me.
Yesterday the dog was running by now he's wobbling in.
My wife has a bunch of emotions that she's been bottling in.
Numerous bottles of gin, a reeking stench brought on by harboring it in.
Rivers that are cried become the memories in the warped floor.
Her wails echo in the corridor & make me abandon all support for her...
Down on our luck mixed in the same old same old that keeps unraveling.
Put it all down on luxury dining, expensive diamonds & constant traveling.
Our greed becomes the same cancer we battling.
Looking inward hoping there is one last stash we can open up.
But we've been down on that green, golfing with a broken club...
Questioning expenditures from this year and the last.
Now that the chips are down, we deal with blowbacks.
There is no more green in our money tree & it won't grow back.
If the leaves turn brown........how can we go back.

We cant...after the wreck Ive been left in an amnesiac state.
fading in and out of awareness & plus I can no longer see that great.
these blinding flashes of migraines start to lead me astray.
my subconscious starts to take over, everything Im hearing it say...
there is no turning back after tonight, you can leave or you can stay.
my pen scratches against the page cluttered in my journal.
all the injustice that is dying inside tells me I never deserved you.
the life after becomes a witch hunt until they can properly burn you.
I guess when you are ~12~ like I am, everyone else is Mary Kay Letourneau.
the memories come rushing back to me...
I grin & think....thats what you get for fucking with me