except for the ones that aren't.
Retired February 21st, 2013, Broke Edge March 9th, 2013.
i'm the kind of kid with
a mouth bigger than
the room of requirement
or a model who ate
one too many burgers
and had to retire it
i'm on my own shit
you live a glorified remix
your demons are seething
i'm breathing, no, wheezing
smokin' too much nicotine
or maybe weed
i can't believe that anybody
ever even listened to me
i needa cool down
needa slow my roll
before these late night
bar fights take their toll
it's like a nightmare
i'm right there
caught up in
point in lying
fuck bein' civil
i belittle anything
that isn't me 'cause
shade of grey
it's scary how he
is so self aware
yet in person his ego
is right under there
not above a cheap laugh
=i don't care=
just another fuckin' artist
=i don't care=
i'm really not this rude though
=but i don't care=
so nod your head and shake it off
=like you don't care=
live a life
based on ifs...
live a lie
based on whens...
left side wins...
take both ends...
HOW DO YOU tell somebody
you can't LIVE WITHOUT them
without sounding like AN IDIOT
dying to die / living to die
please don't make me try this time
kept my eyes on the prize +
my nose to the grindstone
coughs heavy / lungs sore
eyes still high blown
sewn every bit of it that
able men could reap
took a drink + spit it
all over every single thing
we're in too deep
why don't you go play
my new favorite song +
turn it up 'cause we can't
stand the silence
i know, i know it's been so long
but it'll kill it if it feels like we're trying
we're in too deep
short on sleep + mostly restless
it's far too late to mention breakfast
you gotta box fulla alla yr shit
you got nothing to do with any of it
shut yr facehole you stupid dick
make a sandwich made with my two fists
hope yr pants split
fuck you, you get the drift
bet you'll die just waitin' for apocalypse
everybody just waitin' for apocalypse
short on sleep + mostly restless
i'm like this but mostly am that and you are cheesed noodles leftover from the main course
i'm the shit and you're just that but mostly we're faked parking tickets in three feet of snow
i'm just you and you just sat there and took it all in like fine art photographs w/ white wine
you just need it more than i'm any possibility of the proper source of any sort of sustenance
sometimes people go
out of their way
to make sure you'll
never forget them
regardless of how hard you try
this is not their fault
simply, it means that
you mean something
+ they won't forget you, either
etched in synapses
+ cardiac veins
shanked to the left
with the haters + unwell
this is just life
This is my retirement from poetry but I suppose it'll be
akin to when Jay-Z retired from rapping.
He was just tired I'm just tired
words don't rhyme anymore
they're just fucking le t t e r s
Amusement comes seldom and using conventions as catharsis to get over scars is irksome.
Yes I'm broken Yes You've broken me Yes The Royal You
it's all of you, it's none of you and always it's just You and they're all about You and
They're all for You.
this next one is for me.
how many things can we say
about the weather
'til we both end up in nothing
in the morning
just my sweater covers
secret skin you've hidden
since we met that one semester
they all told me you were bad news
but to me that's all the better
THIS IS NOT A POEM THIS IS A TESTAMENT THIS IS THE NEW TESTAMENT IT IS THE ANSWER TO EVERY QUESTION WE HAVE EVER ASKED ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT ANYTHING WOULD EVER BE GOOD AGAIN OR IF BROKEN MISCONCEPTIONS ARE THE ONLY CONCEPTIONS OR IF DECEPTION IS EVEN THAT OR IF IT IS JUST OUR PERCEPTION OF TRUTH ASKEW ESCHEW UNDO REDO UNDO REDO BACKSPACE BACKSPACE ELLIPSES
THIS IS WHAT WE THINK ABOUT WHEN WE'RE LEFT TO OUR DEVICES AND WHAT WE THINK ABOUT WHILE WE BRUSH OUR TEETH IT IS JUST THAT WHITE NOISE IN THE BACKGROUND WHILE WE WASH THE DISHES AND STOP AND CHECK TO MAKE SURE WE'RE WEARING A SHIRT WHICH MATCHES OUR SHOES AND THAT OUR SHOES ARE MATCHING OUR PANTS AND THAT OUR PANTS ARE MATCHING OUR HATS AND THAT THE FACT THAT THESE LETTERS ARE CAPITAL MEANS YOU'RE YELLING IN YOUR HEAD WHEN REALLY THIS IS JUST A WHISPER FROM A LOVER BEATING HEAVILY AGAINST YOUR EARDRUM IN THE DARK
I have not written a good poem about you since our freshman year in college when I was still a drop out and the leaves were this odd orange color that wasn't quite orange, but not really quite red either.
Frat parties are stupid.
I have not written a good poem about you since that time I curled up while puking on myself in my driveway after I said I loved you when I thought I understood what love was and that you were it.
Love letters are stupid.
I have not written a good poem about you since that time you drunk dialed me and said something about how you missed me or something and how I was great and you wished we could work out.
My friends are stupid.
I have not written a good poem about you since last week.
This is stupid.
born a ghost and have only grown more dead.
lilies mighty pretty poking out of empty head.
with a one-two skidoo + a three-four door slam;
devoid of fucks to give, taking every jab like a man.
pray to kings + queens + other things we don't believe
hoping one day somebody could love a wretch as shitty as...
pray you're comfortable.
pray they treat you right.
pray for one more late night
if everything ends,
then everything starts.
it's just that endings leave
the lasting marks on your heart.
nothing special but they insist:
"you're respectable / detestable."
inseparable like lovers raised
in times before it all got technical;
everybody died before their twenties hit,
all the songs were sung in seedy bars,
+ everything was candle lit.
you know nostalgia was an illness, right?
it's so hard when you
this is simply style.
forward in verse... / reserved in life...
nothing ever phases me like
anything you say to me.
this is the last song about it;
promise with my pinky.
honest questions, though,
you'll probably never answer 'em:
what the fuck is your intention?
what exactly are you after?
are you ever laughing with
or only laughing at?
those sultry looks
the fuck is up
scary / terrifying smart.
an evil genius in a sexy dress;
mussolini in a beanie on a conquest.
really nothing anyone should ever trifle with.
all of your flaws are perfect
everything you think is unique
they all really do care about you
the one who makes you feel those things
you make them feel that way, too
trusting everybody = trusting no one
believing everything = believing nothing
the placement of the previous statements is
the difference between god and the devil
it's always raining somewhere
it's always raining somewhere, to be sure
which means it's always raining
it's always gloomy somewhere
it's always gloomy somewhere, to be sure
which means it's always gloomy
there's always lightning somewhere
there's always lightning somewhere, to be sure
so someone's always frightened
someone’s always frightened to be sure
did Poe really
lose his mind
or was that an
the less people know about you =
the more people wonder =
the cooler you are