A Passion For Painting Red

A Passion For Painting Red

By: Tyler Ross

There is a cold emptiness of a feeling consuming my insides

I’m starting to visualize a bigger picture that’s cutting me down to size

Who knew there was a monster eager to be free within me?

I want those to tempt me, so I can act selfishly

My eyes are filled with heat and appear shallow

My mind is continuously visited by villainous contemplation

The things that once mattered have no true impact anymore

What am I becoming that has me feeling such an overwhelming, but joyous sensation?

Trouble is coming, but no one will be warned

I’ve spent years perfecting innocence, but now I’ve been reborn

Soon, those will see my true colors for what they truly are

I’ve walked too perfect; too perfect hiding all my scars

I love one and that one is myself

I don’t enjoy most people

Facts are facts; I don’t plan on getting help

Nothing can fix these up and coming impulses

I don’t plan for those to understand

But I will make it known

This birth of a new man

There is a jagged line in between the black and the white

I’ve found my release from these callous beings in my sight

Hunger urges for a feast long awaited in this weary wit

I’m coming to devour this pain in my head that won’t quit

Armed with the white horse

The darkened world will now have light

Taking out the garbage

Erasing all that are toxic in my life

Note: Inside the mind of a mad man perhaps...definitely not me.

Sponge Heart, Champion Brain

Sponge Heart, Champion Brain

By: Tyler Ross

Some things never change

Faces come and faces go

I try, I try, and I try

But I can’t seem to act on or trust where most lie

A victim

I can do it to myself

A force of bitterness

I can’t let this continue to exist

No risk, no glory

No reason to carry on this story

Bamboozled

You got me

But now I’ve escaped

I control my mind and my fate

Layers of bad

I manifest steps

I climb, I climb, and I climb

The world tends to balance out the mess

When I give up

I forfeit the chance to overcome

A winner’s mentality

I’ve got the PMA (Positive Mental Attitude)

I’ve already won

Escalator Jazz

Escalator Jazz

By: Tyler Ross

It’s been a week and already I’ve accepted defeat

One look and I was hooked

Admittance unsure, but my thoughts are pure

Interests have been submitted silently

I keep them near

Mentally within I want to win

I only ask for the natural attention

Come as it may

My mind won’t sway

Slightly obsessed

I confess

Curiosity at its best

This spunkiness speaks

Contagious energy greets

Nervous, I am

Next move somewhat out of tune

Soon, soon, soon

Fascination looms

Another time to venture textually directed toward me

I like what has happened to me

Yesterday was a short-lived delight

Hoping my instincts lead me right

Born This Way, Die This Way

Born This Way, Die This Way

By: Tyler Ross

If I had a wish and for it did come true

I’d tie it to a cannonball and send it toward the moon

What kind of man would I be pondering all these thoughts?

Do I not value what I have and work hard for what I got?

If you ask me, I’m going to push it away

Nothing can ever come as easy as you say

Instead you’ll pressure me and ask why

Everything I do for myself, and I never question time

I hold more to myself, trust only myself

Those who have tried have only hurt themselves

I won’t let my heart skip a beat for the ones who don’t suit me

You see these calloused hands? What do you make of them?

They’ve been through more life than you will ever understand

Too good for you

I’ll walk away

This heart remains true

I’ll survive another wave

Of bullshit on my own through this quested youth

I seek the truth

Second Place Waste

Second Place Waste

By: Tyler Ross

“You’re lucky,” he says

But it’s that envy that holds you back kid

Don’t let it into your head

Pedestal worship just isn’t real

You’re the first loser

How does it feel?

Living for someone or something that doesn’t want to be reached

They’ll leech sucking the life out of you

No clues to how you got there

Let’s compare someone who was never there

Never there, no care!

Short fuse and you will lose

Just walk away

You don’t have to pay your dues

For better choices made

It’s up to you to control you

Or you will be played

Stay away! Stay away!

Their loss, so move along

Don’t be a pushover understanding right from their wrong

Live and let learn

And watch them burn

Your time is now

No more waiting your turn

Second place is a waste behind first

You think you’ve been replaced

And you’re embarrassed to show your face

You think worse

About the way you were yourself analyzing each and every way

But not today

You’re better than that

Let them fade away

Send them on their way

You are first and that’s a fact

Stand tall or fall

You’ve got to see

The positivity of giving your all

Redirect your thoughts

Fuck what they think

Their mistake

Your time is now

Blatancy

Blatancy

By: Tyler Ross

The door closes slowly and I immediately begin to reevaluate the situation. She puts on a defense of mechanisms known to some as dirt, but to me they are excuses expressed to leave me in hurt. Why do the many want to cut themselves down to size and trash their image or peace of mind? And why do they try and assist in my decision-making? Be a one-of-a-kind. I find the answers are educated guesses developed by those who care to reflect these moments. Saddened and still perplexed by the actions brought to me in short bursts. Radiated connections, sexual detections and bonding intersections met constantly. Why question me? I can’t wrap my brain around to why as humans; most feel the need to flee from obvious harmony. Those who try to excavate and demonstrate hypochondria-like symptoms will find ways to set themselves apart from greatness presented clear as a summer day in California. Just give it a little time, I remind. The weak will shine, although I seem to follow this trend of being left behind. Do I really mind? Sigh. A little sample is what I call being kind. Longevity is my enemy, which I want to gain and end this obvious assertion that this time my opposite attraction feels the same. So, I walk to my car reassessing what I should never have to question. My decisions and intentions are pure, but my feelings lead me think these next days, she will allow me to sink. I stare out into nothing before starting my car and have trouble connecting the missing link. I can’t blink. This is all blatancy I think. I try and build up, but that of what doesn’t want to be built will show no true peace of mind. This is all blatancy I think.

Sellout Son

Sellout Son

By: Tyler Ross

You would think being raised in a low to middle class

Would erase my complaints and resort me to speak of the past

You’ve got it wrong, oh you’ve got it wrong

I will never go back and relive those days with pop and ma

A big fucking smile plasters my face

I escaped

What’s done is done and the world needs to know my place

In this fucking world you’ve got to learn from your mistakes (I know I’ve learned!)

You bet your ass I won’t be repeating those things I did in that living space

Hoisted from a master’s degreed ball player and a security guard slash housewife

Those two fucking lovers loved, but did it fucking wrong raising life

They worked their fingers to the bone and neglected to save their home

But who can blame non-planned parents

A classic household with two sons, but one forced to grow alone

I don’t hate the path of my old man or the efforts birthed from my own mom

They weren’t ready to have us kids, but did the best to get along

Those fights that rocked our home or the fear from their own touch

It’s those days I can’t replace and those nights it got so rough

They did the best they could and I didn’t do much to help

I just left them alone and mostly raised nothing but hell

So who would want a son that causes his creators so much grief?

A fucking sellout son, who was just too cold and a conniving fucking leech

Obtained from my own mom

You know the story of the dad, who wasn’t around

He was there, but didn’t care even when I made a sound (Don't blame him)

Popular in directing attention to my troubled ways

Stayed educated, questioning everything and looked ahead to better days

For those who’ve gotten this far (Fiction this be at best)

You should know my parents were better than most providers

A learned storyteller, I confess

But I just wasn’t all that great

I sold them out to be a liar

When speaking about them terribly seven years to this date

This is dedicated to the individuals, but ruined by the gullible masses