When you were around, somehow,
you made everything seem more magical.
I haven't thought about you in such a long while,
(if you don't count going white whenever your name is mentioned,)
but if you still read these, then I hope,
at least,
that this one makes you smile.

Compassion is rare these days.
It's always been rare,
but you've got it in spades.

I'd tell you to beware;
not to just give it away to anyone -
that it's possible for it to be drained . . .

but I'm pretty sure you know better than I do,
and that it doesn't work that way.

I slid into a time portal that turned into a home.
I hid the lessons I forgot to learn underneath a rotting poem.
I leaned against a no-one and found out who I was.
I did it all to feel alive,
and/or just because.

Sub-human thing.
Unsubtle sting;
a barb that pierces.

My body sings a song that echoes owl screeches.
The moon, it gapes;
my one escape to the farthest reaches.

Out on the fringe, my fur is tinged by embers burnt into the skin
to be met with gnashed teeth and claws that grasp at meat within.

Sub-human form;
body transformed into a nightmare.
A howl that drowns out all and every modern trapping.

Run away and I'll give chase.
Red blood boiling through my veins.
Tearing flesh with filed fangs;
enamoured with the taste.

Sense is a scene of collective meaning where prevailing modes of thinking swarm up in a mighty hand of insects with the intention of slamming down upon some unsuspecting bird.

Headbutt a field of daffodils.
Uppercut a pair of shears.
Fall asleep on railroad tracks.
Throw a wrench into your gears.

Kick a chainsaw in the teeth.
Do a backflip into quicksand.
Take a bath in sleet.
Eat your own hand.

Sleep in a bed of cement.
Bash your head on concrete.
Throw yourself into a volcano.
Cook your own meat.

Swim in a tsunami.
Surf a typhoon.
Drown yourself in madness,
but please just do it soon.

Feel a solemn rhythm,
but please don't force it.
Clamor towards a common goal so you can value what your worth is.

Take a step back or two, or three, or four or more,
but there's no turning back from destiny after you've walked right through its door.

So take those strides with confidence, and even if your feet may falter;
they'll always be someone to worship at your designated altar.

Force the beat to match the feet of those whose are out-of-step.
Catch the break that falls from grace at the top of unfathomable depths.

Kick the can to show The Man that you can thaw the world they've frozen;
no amount of pesticide can **** the garden your plants grow in.

There's a storm abrewin'
and everyone's gone insane,
but I've never been much of one to mind a little wind and rain.

There's a prevailing sense of panic,
but I've got Bob Dylan in my head,
and I bought a pack of smokes 'cause you can't smoke 'em when you're dead.
And if it is my time to go,
well then I'll make good food for worms,
but if it's not then I'll give thanks for shelter from the storm.

Green, purple, black and blue
I'll press on your bruise
and come into you
as you squirm and twirl
and collide your insides
onto my ridged body
in a ****** worthy
of feature-length films.

Fingers and palms are your whole world
around your throat and crushing into you
between our rhythmic pulsing
and the ebb and flow of your
breath that I have in my control,
we create meaning and feed
on all of this beautiful life.

As I paint you white
and pant and fight
with myself,
I can't help
but love you.

So many things that I don't want to do
lend me some cash
and maybe a place to crash
because there's so many things
that I don't want to do.

I don't really want to go to work each day
just to sell myself and my time and my name
to gather up money that I just waste anyway
on getting wasted almost every single day.

I don't want to sleep tonight
it's just another poor way
to spend my time
when I could be smoking
or drinking red wine,
I don't want to sleep tonight.
But if I do fall asleep
I don't want to wake up on time.

I don't even want to stand at all
I'll just sit down in the hall
and stare at the walls,
I don't want to move my neck
or cash my ******* paycheck,  
has the **** sun set yet?
It'd be nice in the cool damp nights
if I didn't have to do a thing
I would be quite alright
to lay in the grass and sing.