adyton punk

Out on the street before we know it 

Tomorrow is the end of all jobs 

I can feel the obsession for me growing

Still no sharp objects in sight 

I cry saying I’m sick of the heights 

Cut me down 

Run me out 

It’s not too big a task 

Cover those tired eyes it should help 

Preserve the ego trip spun behind my back 

Warning signs on the winding road 

A stuffed feeling in nymph’s throats 

Just met now strung on a key fob

Running paint through lips the day after night 

The distance has made the words all dry up 

I’m oblivious when covered 

Call that living in Stevie Wonder

Wouldn’t you want to know the real names 

All plots 

And lots 

And lots of pray

The doors of the boring corridor filled 

All gossiping the same 

Echoing in hearts is only one frame

Pleasures miles away leave me alone 

Call a rain check 

Something’s under the bed 

Laughed at the script’s lines until I ached 

Hunted through orgasmic wilderness

Now there are frowns in the water 

Saying I’m not better than ever 

That I shouldn’t seek help in new hands 

Someone is in a castle with a megaphone blaring

About the difference between worms and snakes 

Melting between the teeth of beauty

Teaching how to drive in a breathing labyrinth 

I’m mindless

A piece of grime 

A piece of game

I spend with no plan 

I don’t weigh options 

I’m sick 

Falling apart 

Perverted

I don’t take care of myself

I can’t even get wasted anymore 

Not that I would ever be caught partying with you 

Fuck that

Punked at the press conference 

If I go out I run into bastards 

People selling shit

People robbing shit 

Somebody else’s consequences 

There’s no love in my life 

I haven’t fucked a nice girl in almost two years

Not that I would ever be caught dead with you

I couldn’t live with myself

But you know what the real money fight is 

And I’m not going to change 

And I don’t need no baby pity neither

Save it and keep saving yourself 

If you’re looking for me you can find me

If I get caught up 

Then I get caught up 

Here’s to looking out

So don’t be scared homie

I’m scorching and that’s that 

It’s been a pleasure

It’s been all mine 

There are two best friends I know who seem to do everything in perfect synchronization. I recently went over to their house to drop acid and watch Scarface. A quarter of the way through the movie, the smaller, less assertive of the two said he wanted to be more like Tony Montana. He’s a jackfruit wholesaler who can’t be in the sun for more than thirty minutes. We chuckled and kept watching. Deeper into the movie I felt a strong rumble stirring from beneath my feet. I asked them if they felt or heard the shaking, but they said they didn’t. One of them said it could be the train passing. Still, it kept happening. I decided not to continue inquiring about it since it was probably just the schizophrenia settling into my system once and for all. I was comfortable accepting that diagnosis at the time. I continued to try and ignore it but it just didn’t stop, it only got stronger and more persistent. It was practically shaking the whole apartment. The plant next to me vibrated on my forearm. My feet tickled from the movement below. I had to ask again. “Do you guys really not feel that?” They looked concerned so I had them stop the movie. Suddenly, the bigger, more assertive roommate said, “oh, yeah, I think I know what you’re talking about. You’re probably hearing the bass from our neighbor downstairs, they sometimes play their music too loud.” I found no relief in that answer. Yes, after paying closer attention to the rumbling I realized it was coming from speakers downstairs, however, I wondered what took them so long to pinpoint what I was talking about. Like I said, it was both audibly and physically apparent that something was shaking the entire apartment. How did they not know what I was talking about as soon as I called it out? Once Tony Montana killed his old boss, I thought it was time for me to take a walk. As I went downstairs, I saw a woman wearing black wings with a black biker jacket and camo pants. She was leaning on the wall downing a bottle of Pepe Lopez tequila. I mean, absolutely guzzling this pint of liquor. When I got to the bottom of the stairs she asked me why I had opened my big, fat mouth. I asked her what she meant by that. She said, “those two boys up there are my guardian project. I’m their Angel and your little questions are coming in the way of my miracle.” I replied, “how so?” She said it was none of my business, but that by the time she was done with them they would be no different than Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. “What does the music have to do with it? Why couldn’t I ask them about it?” She just gazed into my eyes deeply, as if she was taking something from me that I barely had enough of. “You ask a lot of questions for someone who also hears the music.” I asked, “does not everyone hear the music?” “Does not everyone hear the music?" She mocked my mannerisms and tone. "No, not everyone hears it. The music is only heard by those who are ready to hear it.” “And who is ready to hear it?” She lowered her head, let out a sigh and broke the bottle of tequila on the corner of the cement wall. She then took a bite out of the shattered end. Her mouth was leaking blood yet she smiled. It made me realize how beautiful she was. I desperately wanted to have her. She looked at me with violence in her eyes and said, “you fucking, fuck. You hear the music and all you can do is ask stupid, little questions? Those two boys up there will carry out my divine plan even if you've tainted it.” She leaned in, grabbed me by my belt, and whispered into my ear. “Maybe you’ll be next, I know you’ll be needing a home soon. I’ll be there when nobody takes you in. I’ll make something out of you.” I told her that there wasn’t much left of me. She just opened the door to her apartment revealing two monster-sized amps and hundreds of stuffed animals. She walked inside her apartment, turned to me, and said, “that’s not for you to say.” When I returned to the apartment with the two best friends I realized that the Angel’s divine plan had been carried out while I was gone. It was horrifying and sublime. Nothing like she said it would be like. I took it all in then looked back at the screen still playing Scarface. It was showing my favorite scene of the movie.

Ya que no tengo nada por que vivir, sueño solo en destruir. Cuando miro al mundo siento ardor en mis venas. Esta jungla me ha transformado y no siento pena en repartir condenas. Me ha cambiado sin mi consentimiento. No tengo nada que perder, entonces si te invito a comer, mejor que te pongas a correr. Tengo ganas de ver sangre y de oír llanto. Solo deseo la miseria, el dolor y la histeria. No siento cansancio alguno. Mi búsqueda insaciable los derribará uno por uno. Porque antes mi corazón era otro. Ahora ni me miro al rostro. Llevo una masacre en mi alma y no son solo palabras. Quiero pisotear todo y que me acribillen en un tejado. Cuando llegue ese día, por fin veremos lo que el mundo ha dejado.

“What was that?”

“I think I can finally do something different now.”

“Want to watch this movie I heard of?”

“No, they say my eyes are getting worse.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“Nobody wants to notice what’s happening.”

“Why do you talk like that?”

“Even if they wanted to.”

“I’m serious, stop.”

“They feel so safe.”

“I fucking hate you, stop.”

“She does this thing in bed.”

“Stop talking!”

“I stopped at my favorite store for her.”

“I’ve stopped, now can you?”

“Thank you for so many things.”

“Can you at least look at me?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not enlightened.”

“I know you think you are.”

“Because I’m a God?”

“No, because you’re an asshole.”

“I’m an asshole.”

“But I do love you.”

“Only God loves me.” 

“Yes, so at least spend the night.” 

“I don’t want to hate myself.”

“It’s not that bad to.”

“I know.”

“So what do you say?”

“Another night shouldn’t kill me.”