Ray Mesa

Rookie (5/17/89 / Grand Forks)

It Bears Repeating/ How To Erase A Emotion - Poem by Ray Mesa

She lost her Virginty on a doomed plane
The only thing was found was a dark gloomy stain
She said she was sorry, she said she was she was she was
The hovering light spells outloud, Dust to Dust To dust to dust
I'll kill you in tune If I must, I'll slap you in the face twice
I'll never again lean into lust, I check twice for lice
Before I fall into the background, Before I leave you
I will leave this note, this letter and this piece of advice
ALways wear your coat, don't ever let her control you like a vice
Dig your own grave around your own moat, Nibble before you bite
Don't swim under any boat, Don't ever forget the time between day and night
There is time, There is time, In time you will learn and receive
THis time, This time, This time I will make you bleed
Your a slut your a fag your a jew your a nigger
You know to cut but you can't handle the drag, You never knew that I was so much bigger
I am, I am, I am, I am Going to write you a cute little song
Good Golly God fucking damn If only I turned to drugs
I wish I wish wish wish, That my father would lend me his bong
Oh shit, shit shit shit It's all too much I can't hide all of this under the rugs
One day I will send you this song, All in perfect tune
I'll reach through the smog, and I'll do it pretty damn soon
I am a stupid cock, I am a fucking mistake I'm a worthless half-moon
You always wanted me to shine like a star
Grow big and ever so large
You always perferred my money, No matter cash or charge
But one mistake you made too many times
You failed to taste my own slime
This is my world and My kin, My sin, My feelings thrown into a garbage bin
This is my shape and My form, I am the one thing that ever matters to you
Taped and burned, I am the excess excuse you made and the only thing you ever truely knew
Dead and Broken, Something you can never buy or sell
The cheap movie basket, Where my future mistakes will be sold
Lead in my vains and I am chokeing on fumes from hell
I rise from the casket to close the door to keep from being so damn cold
This gun is broken and can only hold one bullet
These words go unspoken and it takes all my energy to pull them out
I share my last words with the girl that mattered the most
It's so sad, So fucking bad that I will never know who that is
Here I am standing towards the west coast
Every time I take a load off I sit in piss
Everytime I look around I see the same host
Oh please will you kill me....Miss?
She smiles and hands me a working gun
She is smileing, Telling me I am a father I have a son
His name is Alex Cross, He is the boy that created that Gun
I wrote you a letter and signed each I with a smile straight to you, Break the bread and share with your son
It has cuased me such little release, so little fun. I got my watch turned to 12, I turn the dial untill I see death
I have the scars to prove that I am right, I sure do bet that I am correct. Put my words to the test your girlfriend takes each other day
They are so poetic that they will create a baby, one that creates the world and then burns each away.
White, right, sight of a blind man sees the reason why the poor man still fights. I would love to burn these words into your skin
So each night you turn to lay down and sleep you think of each time i bleed and everytime I feed. A bead of my sweat will be the dew on your window
Window pane, A sane man will become a slain man, I protest we end the cold war before it gets too hot to handle
Sandle shoes protecting the feet of the ones that are slaves to the doller sign. I wish I could push them down a mouantin and see how much wick is left after I turn sick and put out my candle
High, fly, by me a right to burrow the things my world won't even sell. I'll show you hell, just turn around
So compact these words into your stolen purse, Your rolling Herse, All the dollers you own are adding to your curse
they say the ones that complain about money are the poor, This much is true. But I won't take suits anymore cuaseing all this pressure on you
I can't complain, I can't tell this to you

How to erase an emotion, Is revealed in the same book of tales that contains the story about
the girl that falls inlove with the boy that has a crush on her.
Don't rush her, Stop brushing along her. She is not the one
Not the one that brings you a ciggerete when you just have to have one.
She took my keys and took all my cds. She broke my Afi record along with my heart.
I am so done, So son will you choose life or death, push the knife and place your bet.
She dances with ghosts, She moves along the walls at full fuel burning speeds
She is everything you'll ever need, she is the poisen you bleed, the only thing the devil has left to feed.
All along the walls lays and lies a truth you'll never read or understand.
To tell the truth in a biblecal sense is that you can only crawl under the fence.
Sit your ass on that bench and wetten those pink spots under your eyes.
I don't think I will get sick this time, I am in too good of shape to lose my grip
I don't give a flying fucking flip, The shadows are makeing up shit.
I'm so pariond that one of these days the walls will grow ears, god knows there are bodies behind these walls
Behind these, underneath the middle of far away and between. Simple precation to keep the slaves alive
The world is far, the sun is a star, the girl I love is circiting out and I some how still have a heart
So here I go, so dishonestly into the mist that makes me so pissed to see it smile like the child of mrs.sanner
she smiles like a jackel leaveig me in the cornor to cry outloud, All my fears across the sky like a banner.
Fans of her are the ones that load a gun to all 6 bullets, I remeber the day I told her she was so full of it
she pushed me down untill every atom fit, and pushed me into a small script.
Made my life a budget film, located in the basket near the end of the hallway.
The mistake you made was letting me live, I should of kiled you back called you back
Turn around and kissed the check so anyone can use my words for free
So i need you but I hate you and I warn you that I just might kill you
Kettle screams as the final head rolls.The rappers are slaughtering the art of words.
The white house is mostly white and the oval office is too full of hot air to keep shape.
The mostly morbid mourge is melting away at the moist middle


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Poem Submitted: Monday, May 8, 2006



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