Never could quite get it right
Too loose or too tight
Too dark or too light
Too fast or too slow
Too high or too low
Too much or too little
The whole thing an unsolvable riddle
Just couldn’t figure it out much
That’s what I get for not having no luck

Last night
I spilled insecurities all over the floor
I slipped and slid
I crawled on my knees
And climbed my way up the wall
Into your arms
But I never stopped thinking
The stains never go away
And I’m still not okay

Go **** Yourself

Beaten down like a path full of powdery dirt with lumps and holes throughout the earth
Quiet now because age has laid its hand on my head and told me to rest
Still angry
In my heart
In my soul
Watching and reading a life wading in a brook

Creepy crawly
Seashell lover
Beads around a wrist no longer
Bones that crunch and hair that twists
Six feet under a sordid mix
A sun that shines on quiet days
Morning brings a foggy haze
And you don’t come out on Sundays
and can you feel the quiet
And can you smell the earth
And do you hear the silence
Do you still feel the hurt?

My twisted hue
On doorstop eyes
With crystal windows
Drip drop drain
My velvet hair
On tear stained blues
Back bend summer
Screen door warmth
On a cement porch

Bouncing on a lava lake
Stretchy rubber never breaks
Burning burning twisting pain
Acid slimey mucous lake