Page 1 of The Machine


The Machine

  By Jason Wallace

  ******

  Published by:

  The Machine

  Copyright © 2014 by Jason Wallace

  I used to think

  That I could ever speak

  Any words to anyone

  That would mean anything

  More than just to me,

  Just to me

  Every single time that I start to blink,

  My eyes begin to twitch, and I lose my edge,

  And it all seems that I freeze, unable

  To come back down to a place where

  I’m smart enough never to dream

  Or try to be more than I am,

  More than me,

  More than just me

  I’ve fallen down, so I’m falling in,

  Right into line where they all want me to be

  The all numbing sin is to give up the piece

  That you fight so hard to find, grasping to seize,

  Ever to keep, building up to get torn back down,

  Burned and drowned, whitened like the masses of sheep,

  And the only thing I have left is the drain from my skin,

  The cut of the flesh, the wound that never ceases to bleed

  I’m living off of the hand, the emplacing one, the un-embracing one

  That is the only part of that machine that gives one damn to feed

  Because you have to do what you’re told but be kept alive

  Just long enough so they can suck away all the energy and product they need

  You’re only what they make of you, so get ready to be

  The restrained, damaged, demanded little scrap of meat,

  Festered and blistered, shredded, bludgeoned, beat

  Be like them; be like them, the others chosen for a life

  Given away under the control of the whole of the ones

  Holding your all til they eat, spit you out as some crumb, then repeat

  Bonus Material

  Product

  I’m worn out, worn down, torn down;

  I’ve got a warning for you.

  The hardest thing you’ll ever do

  Is live through

  All the pain, all the strain

  Of being you.

  Simply put, you’re simply put

  Into a place that you never would choose,

  Beaten like you intended to

  Be what they want,

  What they can’t be…

  But you don’t fall in line,

  So they can’t see

  That you’ve got a life to live,

  Got a lot to give

  Before all your all is taken away

  And spewed back at you.

  You get a load of shit

  That they manufactured for your mouth

  To eat and repeat

  And never spit it out.

  So, just ask for more,

  And leave it alone.

  What do you try to be anyone for

  When being nothing but a clone is all you own?

  The numbing of the nothing that you’ve become

  Is something for someone, but only for you

  If you can’t try trusting,

  Then you’re of no use

  Because they have to fill you with their filth

  And fit you with their noose.

  If you don’t believe, then you have no excuse.

  You didn’t accept their guilt and their gifts and their refuse.

  You didn’t swallow their swill and follow their will.

  Take note that the remote that controls your soul

  Is in someone else’s hand; take that pill;

  Choke on their lies; walk with blinded eyes.

  You always have; you always will.

  You’re nothing but a sorry story to sell,

  A product to be bought up and bottled and remodeled,

  And you buy in all the time, so, oh well.

  Dead Inside, Deep Inside

  *I wrote this when I was 18 or 19. Bear that in mind when reading.

  I hope you hurry

  Before I piss my pants.

  Oh shit!

  I messed up

  And missed my chance.

  I didn't realize it would be like this.

  I still can't see

  Why it turned out like it did.

  I've scattered my ashes and shed my tears,

  Tattered my clothes and said my fears

  To the one who made me trust her,

  The one that said she loved me

  While she said fuck you

  To the world she ran through

  And stole my innocence in return

  And rekindled a swindled heart in turn.

  Did she ever feel the way it burned,

  My pain disguising itself

  To hide the help I headed for

  And deride the dead deeds done no more.

  I know no noble notions.

  I am facing unforetold fears.

  I am swimming among oceans of pass-me-by years.

  I wish I would wash away the way it was

  And go back to a time

  When I wasn't living for lust.

  My mind is a torment I represent.

  It tells me my heart is no longer a must.

  Scratch that.

  Erase the trust.

  Don't fret or fuss

  Over bullshit stuff.

  It's only there to lead you down,

  Gone to a hurt of personal hell,

  A sin within that you can't foretell

  To a teller trying to sell her soul for pennies.

  My mind is gone.

  I've had it off more than I've had it on.

  My blind eye is drawn to envy.

  I don't sell it,

  But I smell it,

  And I felt it,

  All the bullshit that we see.

  I can never tell

  What all is well,

  But it's not so well for me.

  I'm dead inside,

  Deep inside,

  Unable to see the selfish side.

  Don't set me

  A pretty petty

  Weak and weary

  Shitty gritty

  Greeting from beyond.

  I walk a wild and worn out path

  Past a person impersonating

  The idiosyncratic psychopathic personalities

  Of a drastic spastic penalty

  Purged on people finding very little love

  In an uncaring world of hate undebatable.

  There is no comfort zone in a broken home.

  Don't you hear my god **** tone?

  I can't lend a loan

  From what's not my own.

  I move slow, alone

  And fast afraid.

  We got it made

  For the few moments we stayed

  And played away

  So the sour could say

  Curses against the day

  But wouldn't go away

  And wanted to make us pay

  With money we couldn't raise

  As forced out slaves.

  I wish I wasn't so fuckin sober so often.

  I need some shit to ease my constant coughin’.

  I'll be in a coffin sooner than I wanna be

  If I don't get some shit to help me see

  The struggles I'm gonna see.

  I'm altering the free things

  That are here for us all.

  Life is a strife to let you ignore the fall.

  I am an underachiever,

  A false believer.

  I am never home to receive my calls.

  I'm sure we could reach a preacher to deceive us all.

  Thank you for not thinking of me.

&
nbsp; Remember the mind-bender

  Beginning from me.

  I'm bathing in a taking

  That's sickening me,

  Making me drunk

  On hellhole telltale tolerances

  Of habits remaining

  In the morning sun's appearance.

  I'm shaking shitfaced shallow showoffs

  And igniting the ticking time bomb about to blow off

  I'm dead inside,

  Deep inside,

  Unable to see the selfish side.

  Don't set me

  A pretty petty

  Weak and weary

  Shitty gritty

  Greeting from beyond.

  I walk a wild and worn out path

  Past a person impersonating

  The idiosyncratic psychopathic personalities

  Of a drastic spastic penalty

  Purged on people finding very little love

  In an uncaring world of hate undebatable.

  Say you're sorry

  For what you've done.

  We lost the fun

  We thought we had.

  It all went bad

  When we sunk to sad.

  It makes me glad

  To see my enemies mad

  Cuz I don't give a fuck.

  The game is up.

  My name is stuck

  On some absent luck.

  I don't get a suck.

  Go suck a rock.

  You can't suck my cock.

  I never knocked her off.

  The shit she's got

  Is just the flu.

  I never penetrated through

  The thickass slip

  Of her in between the pussylips.

  Don't talk like a little kid.

  I know the bad shit you did.

  It ain't hid from me.

  I'm running a race

  To hide this face,

  But she don't run me.

  I gotta ride

  Far from pride

  And be alive inside

  And get powered past her bitching.

  She best not make a sound.

  I want only silence.

  I prayed it wouldn't lead to violence.

  But regrets forget the shit I get

  From the times she tried to beat me down.

  I sent her the center of my being.

  She fucked it up and slammed it down,

  And she's repeating.

  The outstretched hand

  From this broken man

  Was caught bleeding.

  She's still feeding into the lies she told me.

  I despise her more mostly.

  Fuck her for her fastly forwarding fronts

  Of deceit and corruption.

  I will corrupt her confusion.

  The contusion I got with my concussion

  Is the newest point of our discussion mentioned.

  I don't believe her true intentions.

  I'm dead inside,

  Deep inside,

  Unable to see the selfish side.

  Don't set me

  A pretty petty

  Weak and weary

  Shitty gritty

  Greeting from beyond.

  I walk a wild and worn out path

  Past a person impersonating

  The idiosyncratic psychopathic personalities

  Of a drastic spastic penalty

  Purged on people finding very little love

  In an uncaring world of hate undebatable.

  I'm so dead inside,

  Not as deep inside,

  That I can't at least sometimes see my selfish side.

  Just don't set me

  Any pretty petty

  Weak and weary

  Shitty gritty

  Greetings.

  I walk on a wild and worn out road,

  Never knowing what's owed.

  I'm dead inside,

  Deep inside,

  Unable to see the selfish side.

  Don't set me

  A pretty petty

  Weak and weary

  Shitty gritty

  Greeting from beyond.

  I walk a wild and worn out path

  Past a person impersonating

  The idiosyncratic psychopathic personalities

  Of a drastic spastic penalty

  Purged on people finding very little love

  In an uncaring world of hate undebatable.

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