i suppose i am composed
of some of my mother
and parts of my father
no matter how i try to shed them both
i am warped by premature exposure
to prostitution and *******
my veins are ***** from
the needles i don't use
and my head is clear from
the pills i don't take
painted skin covers
the pale emptiness
my skin as a canvas
that all too accurately reflects
the blank white nothing inside of me
cruel hope after hope that's been
left to disappoint
disapproval of myself end to end
fiber to fiber is deemed inadequate
so focus outward forget about this body
how to impact the world
how to change the world
how to fix the world

you hope i die.
i hope i die.

but God won't appease either of us.

my continuing disappointment is a gift
you can never return.

what you thought i could be
is a gift you'll never receive.

let us both pour more wine
for the lie that will always endure.

Infinities and unfathomables
Unseeables and unthinkables
They want the unachievable
But all I ask in this transcient state
Is a tiny forever
Just within the confines of possibility
Just outside the realm of reality
Right in the center of your soul.

the rim of your beer can
tastes like your stale cigarettes
i choke on the lingering flavor
persistent in my mind
you're overwhelming from afar
if we were closer perhaps
i would build up immunities
to your snares that have me
caught up and falling
head over heals drowning
only at the rim of your beer can

It has been said that the eyes are the windows to the soul...

Maybe that's why our pupils are black...

There you go judging.
Thought that was your god's job.