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Save the planet;
**** yourself.
My body heat
in a bottle.
Camera on the floor,
balance empty Mr. Beam
atop its lense.
Did I hit record?
**** it,
I gotta let go.
Bubbling up, man,
protein in my ****.
Yeah yeah yeah.
I'm dying
sure,
but so are you
and you
and you.
Outta room.
Pinch off
and save it for later.
Stop recording.
Another thing
that I'll never
show to
anyone.
Great.
Just
great.
Good job Justin.
Crunchy,
heavy taste.
I love them
as much as paste.
Now free
from the burden
of intelligency,
happy
as can bee.
Green smiles
from me,
that's the color
the parlor
used to be.
Let's brake a
thermometer
so we can play
with the mercury.
I like the way it beads
in my palm,
but it gets smaller
and smaller
until it's gone.
It's okay
I still feel
relieved.
I still feel.
It's okay.
See?
My thoughts start to wander
and right as I begin to wonder
my phone buzzes.

I get home from a long day at work,
in the shower my mind begins to search
then I get out and turn on the TV.

I wake up from a vibrant dream
where a gripping idea comes to me,
so I sit down at the computer
to google what it means
but before I even hit enter
I open up another tab
and click on YouTube
to see where my favorites are at.

Whiskey goes in there somewhere too.
Bourbon, rather. Whatever.

I think back on the times
where I had nothing.
Often with longing.
I can't control myself.
I have to throw it all aweigh.
I've gotta take a **** so bad I can taste it.
That sun is deceiving.
Faux fluorescence, fickle morning light.
In my eyes
so bright,
on my skin
cold as night.

Conniving contrivance of combustion,
yellow liar in the sky
feeding my hopeful mind
full of summertime delight.

Don't step outside,
lest you find
that sun is deceiving.
False light,
bitterly white,
dancing in the
azure heights.
Learning how to type is hard in your 30s.
****,
I guess learning anything
is hard in your 30s.
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