the horrors of childhood

by J.J. Campbell

stuck here waiting

for the monsters

to take over

i’m still the shy

kid in the sandbox

hoping that isn’t

shit running down

his leg

they say the horrors

of childhood make

you a stronger adult

those fuckers never

do say what happens

to the exceptions to

the rule

i’d love to pull one

aside and tell them

the pain of being

older and still

inadequate

some scars never

get the chance

by J.J. Campbell

sometimes i fall asleep

by talking to myself

it’s usually about all my

failures with past lovers

i do this hoping that in

my dreams those lovers

come back to me

that never happens

but like any crazy

person, i keep trying

the romantic in me

still imagines the day

the love of my life

laughs with me in

the rain as we

frantically kiss

under darkening

skies

the defeated monster

in me pictures sitting

in the rain alone,

trying to hear music

that doesn’t exist

my soul does nothing

but laugh

wondering how he can

manage to drown in just

an inch of water

by J. J. Campbell

spend a few hours trying

to fall asleep by dreaming

of the only time you were

really in love and all the

fucking pain that followed

find your father’s grave

and piss on it

it’s the only goodbye he

deserved

step into the nearest shitty

bar and ask for a glass and

a bottle of something strong

give the bartender a crisp

hundred-dollar bill and

slink off into the corner

a few glasses in, the beauty

queens will soon start to

whisper

enjoy the only attention

you’re going to get

by J. J. Campbell

night

swimming

with the

distinguished

souls in a

lazy river

at the end

of november

there were

rumors that

there was a

dead body

out in these

parts

plus,

we had

a case

of beer

that was

begging

to be

demolished

there’s a rope

hanging from

an old tree

it’s for

swinging

i suppose

by J. J. Campbell

broken angels and lost souls

the ghosts of murdered children

marching the streets right before

dawn

all the factories have closed

their parking lots are full of

weeds and dirty needles

these small towns are allergic

to the future

no one wants to step out of

their little utopia

this is what happens when

you never open a book

venture to the wrong side

of the town

or spend any nights

drenched in reality

we’ll all be dead soon

just an endless nightmare

broadcast on the national

news

an epidemic makes the most

unlikely celebrities

by JJ Campbell

a lazy sunday afternoon

soon an old tom waits

song slides into your

mind

you’ll be finishing off

a bottle of something

strong before you know

it

the woman you are

madly in love with

asks you to stop telling

her how much you love

her

you laugh

imagine a world where

someone could be loved

too much

soon the second bottle

will be empty and you’ll

look around your lonely

room still amazed

just another lost, lonely

soul abandoned by the

beautiful

left to scribble down

some madness like a

monkey in a cage

minus throwing the

shit around

by J. J. Campbell

it’s an old song

a few haunting

memories

yet another

empty bottle

on the floor

they all look

amazing

walking

away

none of them

ever manage

to find their

way back

though

eventually,

i will die

and the

nightmares

can finally

end

or dance in

the head of

another for

a change

by J.J. Campbell

this is the

depression

talking

how a

beautiful

woman

looks like

misery

how the

sunshine

is a beacon

for pain

how endless

and deep

forever feels

sickens you

to know the

race has just

begun

her tears taste

as sweet as

death

one day you

might be able

to enjoy this

circus

by J.J. Campbell

hatred

is this

endless

nightmare

only the

assholes

have this

need to

inflict

it on

humanity

the

bitter souls

keep it to

themselves

and have a

bottle to

wallow in

that misery

with them

i never

wanted

to die

alone

but most of

my cookie

crumbled

to a dirty

floor       

never any good at magic

by J. J. Campbell

an inch of rain after

christmas

santa didn’t bring

me any damn boots

i gave up smoking

nearly twenty years

ago

there are days i go

through a carton in

my dreams

happiness is an

illusion and i was

never any good

at magic

my third eye got

poisoned by

mushrooms

tragic isn’t a strong

enough word