(untitled) -- a collection of experimental poetry [COMPLETE]

luv

i ain't fuckin' tough
i'm brutal,
i'm hahtless --
loved by no one,
'cause love's
a fuckin' joke.

the neighbourhood
where i grew up
was a conveyah belt,
a conveyah belt for
smashin' rocks --

fifty hydraulic pistons
pumping hurt against
ya spine,
and if you were weak,
if you ever showed 'em
that it hurt --
you were crushed into
gravel,
crushed into dust --
nothing more than
a bloodstain on tha curb

you had to be more
than tough
to make it out alive,
you had to be
a faceless nothing
with a knife.

there ain't no time for love,
when your listenin' to ya
drunken father beating the
shit out ya mother
and you know he's comin'
for ya next
if the flimsy lock on ya door
ain't enuf --

i stabbed my fathah with
a butcher's knife
when i was twelve,
but ma was already done for
i couldn't save 'er --
i don't think i even have a heart
at that point,
it was just a jar fulla
salt watah and rusty
barbed wire
that rustled like tinsel
if ya shook it.

everything i learnt,
i learnt tha hard way,
and throughout my life
i've nevah had a friend --

this city,
this city ain't my friend --
but i know it well
and it knows me bettah,
the filth of NYC
is the marrow in my bones
and the dumpstah trucks
are my guts
and the broken windows
are my guts
and the graffiti and the bums
and the sleazy hookers are all me,
and i'm all them --
like two ugly parasites diggin'
roots into each other's eyes.

i'm hahtless,
i'm brutal,
love's a fuckin' joke --
but i gotta admit,
when i'm smokin'
out on the fire escape,
and when the deep-fried sun
goes into sunset,
and the clouds go pink
and orange like an
eye infection,
the barbed wires in
my heart that's a jar
rustle like tinsel,
and when a couple
o' stars make it past
the light pollution and
the smog,
just to shine down
on this shithole --
i can feel almost
a heartbeat,
somewhere in my ass.