Words are lodged into the murky water of my mind
Pearls of meaning in the sandy beaches of the pineal gland
Like warm court proceedings
Is this fair? Right?
Did you know that some people
Aren’t groovily depressed
They can leave their rooms
Be real toothed cogs in society
I’m a toothless gear
Spinning with nothing to grip
Spinning my tires in black ice
Freezing in the fields
All I hope for
Is that next years crops use this dead meat
To make something beautiful
Something that can grow
Merry
Something that can live up live up live up
To the things it wants to say
My motif is a sown mouth
With spiders thread

It’s a blank white slate with the entirety of human achievement inside of it
A way to talk to billions, to drown myself in enough entertainment to make me sick
It’s an echo chamber
It’s an echo chamber
Each night I scream into these walls
Beating myself into a vagus nerve induced frenzy
Slap these thighs and pull out wiry hair
Snap my fingers, my rough knuckles dancing as blows rain down
Like so many rainy days locked away
Seething meat blasted into oblivion
Because you have to do it don’t you?
Despite all the words
All the reassurances that you aren’t a liar
You want to do it
You want to think you want to do it
You are so confused
Cut the meat
Punch the beef
It’s an echo chamber
With occasional melodies belting out from underneath the door frame
Little moments when you collapse
No beauty in the death of the ugly ways
A cracked ceramic mask
Made by a kindergartner
Because I never learned how to paint my face
I never learned any language other than man
It’s not a matter of how I feel
It’s a matter of can I always feel this way
It’s a matter of whether or not I’m still riding on the echoes of a voice that only brings to mind the haziest of memories
It’s a matter of who looks back at me in this prison, this room
Who will greet me in my nightmares tonight?
Who will look back at me in the mirror?
When did those stop being two sides of the same coin?
I pound and beat and mash pale flesh against the steamed surface
Please, take me out of this two way hell
This two time place

I am an empty wasteland
Studded with stained remnants of coffee cups
Papers are strewn about, telling stories about people
Who will never exist.
They seem so much more real than I have ever been
Musky clothes line the floor sending unseen spores deep
Into the lining of my lungs
I am one with where I am
Food and pills surround every speckle of surface
A myriad of tye dye colors
How much happiness can they fit inside a pill?
books and posters leave plastered imprints on the walls
Anything to show that this isn’t all there is
To a life that was never worth it to you

I am a bleeding liver
Half guzzled liquor
Spilled into cracked cups creates scummy films
Rainbow reflections of light from vertical screens
How’s that for a pride display?
In the rainbow of puddles
A failed education fills a shelf
Reading is so far beyond
Me
A fan buzzes in my ear
An angry bee that pounds thousand ***** to keep me cool

I am a furnace
That burns paper ideologies
Nothing here is permeant
Real is just a concept
Gallons of water to satiate an always parched throat
Diluted blood fills these veins
A slow death from oxygen deprivation
With no belt around the neck

I am a fetid corpse
That can still move
Still think
Still spew methane
Use a screen to reach out
Talk to a thousand other blank eyed, slack jawed clones
What does it mean, these words on a white background
Are you the reaper?
The coroner?
I’m breathing
I’m sweating
I’m *******
I’m not living
Air fills these two sacks
Red sewage is pumped into grey hands
A jolt down the spine
Is all I am
What am I?
I am a medicated pig
I am an artist failed dream
I am a cloud, high and falling constantly down
I am a camera, only able to record, but never interpret
I am
I am

Freezing warmth
Radiates from a frigid
Rancid heat
Fearing a hot tubs
Final goodbye
Fetid whispers into the fallapon nights
Please
Please don't go
Feel cheap beer slide down
Your rapidly fanatical throat
Feigned cries of the frozen man
Echo in the night
Fostered cares of the forlorn it
Frantic jokes told
In the same fervent pitch of a
Forlorned lover screaming
Always screaming
Why is the ******* failure always screaming

id rather have they caught me crying
than eating
in my car, broad daylight, at the jam-packed parking lot
i think i shoulda expected
maybe im just asking for it

no, im craving

for this hellhole id do anything
why would i want to escape
when all i do is chasing?

this body again, i ask
if they have more hatred for me
ive used mine up
my glass is broken but at least its full
many thanks to the world

i know no time
for me its always the same
over and over again

if i had different body would i be wanted?
if i had different mind would i be adored?
if my hands werent my own would you take it?

some days i wake up dying
the rest i dont
why am i still alive, it doesnt make sense
i hope youll understand
but no
no
i didnt say no

Waking up gasping
another night starts
and the image of you
screaming stays when
I shut my eyes and
I’m losing my
mind, shattered like the
mirror you threw at
me in one of our fake
fight late night
(bored out of our minds)
night I spent awake
my hand still hurting
trying to capture you
in words that just wouldn’t work
and I roll around in my
bed at night, losing my
mind trying to stop
all the pretentious *******
running through my head and
I can’t stop thinking of the nights we
spent our minds trying
to get to know each other and
I’m screaming, screaming, scream
and then I stop
and then I just stop
how can you expect
me to say I
love you
when I can’t even ******* say
who I ******* am
am losing my mind that
I didn’t even know I had and
I can feel the little fragments
of me that I spent years trying to collect
and then you just left
you threw it all away
you threw it all away
and as you left my car for the last time
I asked if I could still call you
my little bird and
you said okay
you said okay
you said
okay

The self proclaimed writer

Jerking himself off to exhaustion daily

(Never touched, never connected)

To play roulette with his circadian rhythm

And turn an otherwise docile daytime delinquent

Into a nocturnal creature's fear

All to avoid the cliched train wreck of a family

The alcoholic mother

The never proud father

And the always beyond reach sister

Yes yes, feel the waking nightmare

This insomniac desperately craves sleep

As the titular picturesque life

sobriquet to family cat

Is slowly causing his dormant degeneracy

To blister and boil the brain

And he feels like he is losing his mind

In this otherwise ideal world

This grotesquely pictersque

Fevered upper class dream