"Of Ghosts And Ghouls"
-by Shayne Edwin
don't wish me luck, wish me well. don't give me a helping hand, hope i'll handle it well. i don't need your pity, i just need some eyes. don't look down on me just don't wear a disguise. i'm not the man you knew before, sometimes people change. a stranger once upon a time will soon not be so strange. red lips as a pillow and gemstone eyes, surprise! it is my own death i surmise; endless beginnings. i found myself, to find myself i had to hang and drown myself, renowned myself and surround myself with the kind of un-clouded self that even bereft, un-towny, non-clowny mother fuckers seem to surround themselves with. i'm not ballistic, a baller, shot caller and i don't wish i was a little bit taller; i wish i could stand. i want to breathe air colder than that ice you wear, longer than that fake hair you wear, smoother than a body at the hands of nair, and louder than the biggest band's big band snare. i am a phantom; the embodiment of selfless non-expression. my hands are too big for my pen, my pad too small for my words, my slurs too big for my his and my hers, my tongue must have grown up in the suburbs. at the first sign of panic - count to 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,TEN. we hold these truths to be self-evident, the most relevant and irrelevant, irreverent, reverend of tomorrow. silver and gold, silver and gold, truth be told, truth be told, a ghost is only as tall as he is cold, and a ghoul is only as large as he is cool. grind your hips if you wish to eclipse this, mother fuckers. unwind your lips if you wish to eclipse this, mother fuckers. you must think i'm crazy.