scare yourself back into existence angels laugh at the ache in your heart they taste the blood in your fear they help you tie the rope around your neck and find the sturdiest tree in the town it is your unwillingness to step beyond these mortal thoughts that confuses everyone why be tied to just what they want you to know expand your brain into the darkest hole you can find and scare yourself back into existence give the world all your secrets break these chains and never be afraid of falling down but never think anyone will ever help you back up --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- a frantic phone call to my mother i remember taking my mother's diaphragm into show and tell one day and said i used it in the sandbox in the backyard to sift the sand there was a frantic phone call to my mother from a horrified teacher my mother had no clue what i had done i figured i was getting an early start at being a standup comedian of course, it was the 80's and we had no clue how to actually encourage an active imagination in a child back in those days they were too busy trying to get me to understand conformity and division i was already reading at a college level and no one understood what made my mind tick none of them ever did until i got to high school and found an english teacher who knew immediately i was way beyond anything he had planned in his class so, he told me to go write a book of poems and show him what i was working on best teacher i ever had ---------------------------------------------------------------------- abandoned buildings i sometimes find myself drifting off mid-conversation these days i'll hear an old massive attack beat in my head and start thinking about doing drugs in my youth abandoned buildings the cemeteries and open fields where we would count the stars and give them better names and it's not that those days were better or more open or free they just held a sense of a better possibility than these days stuck in a digital world of faceless souls and juvenile criminals ------------------------------------------------------------------------- the dotted line engulfed in flames trembling hands and a dotted line a little scotch used to calm these nerves now it takes more than anyone should comfortably drink in public it's not every day you're signing away the right to live but you understand this is the best for everyone involved ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ the horizon looks bleak i used to mark the days on a calendar with a marker now i do it with blood the horizon looks bleak and then i see a mirror haven't shaved in years no reason to ever love me screams like a woman in danger i have prepared for my death since i was a child the life goals i was allowed to pursue have all been checked off now i just need a sunset a trusty shotgun and a little music to send me home
J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is old enough to know where the bodies are buried. He’s been widely published over the years, most recently at The Rye Whiskey Review, The Beatnik Cowboy, Dumpster Fire Press, Misfit Magazine and Horror Sleaze Trash. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights. (https://evildelights.blogspot.com)