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Done















Done








8 years ago today I spent the night at the Doubletree Hotel in Sacramento, CA, en route to RTC Great Lakes. I left behind a lucrative career at Wal-Mart unloading trucks, my pursuit of a degree in literally nothing at Solano Community College, and a girlfriend that would later hate me for not dressing like one of the little bitches so common in K-Pop videos (srs). Throughout my tenure in the Navy I fought, did Handstand Pushups, and had my personal space violated repeatedly by deranged, insane men and women that would become the best friends I'd ever known. In the Persian Gulf, I went to throw up in a toilet that was already backed up and filled to the brim with shit, causing me to spew forth twice the expected amount of vomit. I became known as Bitch Hands, a name I still answer to from San Diego, Califronia to Manama, Bahrain. I passed out drunk in public parks, on the shores of forgotten beaches, and the manicured lawns of the estranged friends of acquaintances I barely knew. I wept for home in the shadowed corners of darkened, red light lit spaces, and drank rum with my SUPPO in the Middle East. I taught gymnastics and boxing on our floating penitentiary as it rocked and drifted across the Earth, and subsisted for a month on naught but honeybuns, Slim Jims, and Singaporean street jerky. I found strength in solitude, through exercise and literature, and reaquainted myself with God, finding salvation after nearly killing a guy in an impromptu fight with a guillotine choke held on far too long. I know you're reading this since we remained friends. I'm sorry. I looked for my heart in every woman I knew, eventually finding it in Zimbabwe, only to lose it all the same. But I press forward. Today was my last day in the IRR, meaning that my 8 years are up. I'm free. Again. Thanks for the memories, you glorious fucking degenerates. I'm home.

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The first time it happened was around the end of 1999. My Mom and my Aunt were busy prepping everything for the holidays, and my older cousin begged to babysit me. Looking back, though there was nothing that indicated what he would do to me, I now find it odd that he showed so much extra attention towards me. In the days prior, when all of the kids played whatever trivial games we dreamed up, he would go out of his way to ruin my fun. I remember one instance where we were playing Heads Up 7-Up or something similar, and though my head was down, he stopped the game and said that I was peeking at the other players, something banned by the rules. "No I didnt!", I protested. "Yeah you did, I seen you!", he'd reply mockingly. My two front teeth stuck out prominently due to a mix of bad genetics and awkward dental work, and I told one of my other cousins, in jest, that I'd gladly trade my teeth for hers. We laughed, until I heard him behind us.…

Death Row

Death Row




I cant sleep/
Because these damn bleat-/
Ing fat sheep/
Harass me/
With thoughts of home everlasting/
They ask me/
If I'm doubting/
Whether I'll be happi-/
Er back there or out be-/
Ing the bad dream/
I've been to half the peop-/
Le I've known, just last week/
I slapped, beat/
Down three/
Annoying ass teens/
For laughing/
As I watched a movie slammed, beat/
After a savage week/
At work, I found these/
Hands swing-/
Ing grabbing/
Necks to gash and ring/
While attacking/
Panicking/
I stand, shriek/
And pass weak/
Guards, they cant catch me/
Tragedy/
Befalls actually/
Facts and brief/
Glass meet-/
Ings with a pastor week-/
Ly leaves me/
Seeking/
A deity/
To help free me/
But they keep me/
In this cage weeping/
Scheming/
To beat these/
Screws/
Loose/
Unleashing/
Rage when they leash me/
Up like a dog, deep things/
Run through my head underneath these/
Veins running varicose/
My demons seem/
To always be very close/
Air and smoke/
Are an errant joke/
The mirror p…

Skin

Skin






After I was molested/
I'd come to know whether/
Or not I would be broke, festering/
Or if my sole pleasure/
Would be to not choke every/
Time he came around, I was so sheltered/
By the cold weather/
That love wouldn't clothe severed/
Limbs, amputated/
After patient/
Dancing, waiting/
For the foreboding entrance/
Of arose questions/
Like why'd you do it/
Were you alright through it/
Whyd you hide truth when/
I cried, rumin-/
Ating on the times, rooms and/
Denied clueless-/
Ness on these kinds of movements/
A child zoomed a-/
Way from quite ruthless-/
Ly, and to my students/
Studying these words, I'm the light proving/
You can/
Survive too if/
You dig deep and slice, booming/
Your voice, cause I've used it/
To strengthen myself, the tide's boosting/
Me up, and if you write to me/
I'm happy saying/
That I'm saving/
Others from suicide, through these/
Lines clueing/
You into divine music/
And to my detractors/
Reacting/
In deep packs of/
Steep madness…