The pizza took her place in bed. It slathered itself all over her.
The pizza objectified my body.
It slid between her *******, leaving traces of red sauce and strands of hot, almost liquid cheese in the nook of her cleavage.

It slowly dripped off of her ******* as she spread its residue across her *****.
From there, the succulent, almost watery juices rolled off of her teet and onto her folded legs as she knelt there in the store window.
Everyone could see her.
But as long as those who were most enthralled came inside to purchase a pie or two, no one seemed to care.

There’s a corner of my basement
I can see it from the couch
It’s a doorway of light
Opening to a stairwell

A light is on near my bed
It’s small
A phone perhaps

I have headphones on
So It’s hard to sleep comfortably
I like to nestle my head into the crook of my arm

I stare at a worn down drop-ceiling
Those two lights are on either side of my vision
I keep waiting

I keep rolling into the cracks
I’ve had to adjust the cushions far too many times

A smile
A warmth
My eyes
I don’t want to swallow

The jar is closed
Pandora’s box of light opened while I streamed blues on Pandora
And I see the lights go static

They bend into each other in the dark
I wave my fingers in front of my face
I’ve probably killed a few brain cells here
Definitely.

Sorry Mom
I was bored and rubber cement is only 3.97

I’m drunk on a cleanse from oxygen
I’m sure my nostrils will thank me later

My brain could use an adhesive
Flexibility would bond loose ends
And repair the divisiveness

I have my hands in everything
And I can’t remember the last time I stepped in dog ****

But a hand in phylogeny is a backhand to Baptists
A hand in salvation is a slap in the face to the Darwinists I love everyday

I have a toast!
To the moment the rapture brings about our extinction my friends!

At least everyone thinks I’m stupid.
Right in the middle of the room is the right place to be
A bullseye for stone chuckers and monkey *******
A hand out for the druggies
And a jab at the churches who aren’t doing anything
A round of applause for cruel irony
And a finger turned up in a creative way to everyone who’s laughing at the episode

Vishnu would have a hay day
And I could use the extra hands.
Jesus’s are tied- I mean nailed up at the moment
But when miracles don’t happen anymore
Go read first Samuel, and you’ll see all this **** went down before

And there’s another cycle
History repeats itself
In through the nose and out through your mouth
Just keep a nostril over the jar
And don’t die

I could have any troubled girl I wanted
They’re just through a phone screen

I could have any stupid girl I wanted
I would just have to sell ****

I could have any unconscious girl I wanted
They’re just at a party lying face down *** up,
from holding too many glasses up,
I mean who could that pass up?
What else do you think a frat does?

Umm gross...

I’ll just stay at home
Which is where?

Halfway through a bottle is a warm place to be
Buds make good friends,
And trees hug back if you’re lucky
The real danger from cigarettes is a rotator cuff injury
From repetitive motions
Ignore the choking
And feed into the cancer machine

If I only had the money
A depression nap at a friend’s house is all I need

I could have any high-school girl I wanted
But now they’re too simple
Just put Chicken nuggets, Veganism, or puppies on a tinder

Or learn your anatomy
And it’s all in the strokes
One size fits them all
And it all becomes rote

I could have any relatable girl I wanted
But now it’s only for the ego
Which is cracking up as I plaster up a new soul-fixing placebo
Confidence from compliments
And I wish I was narcissistic
But just in case you missed it

My facade is splitting at the ******* seams
Dichotomy is our nature
Hitting covers off the *****
We need to chase our dreams

What will lay waste to a mind that never stops is insecurity
Not knowing your value makes it easy to get flirty
Makes you feel twice as *****
When you make someone feel the way you wish you felt inside
But then you take it back to spare them from wasting anymore time
Your brain stuck on overtime, and slow-mo rewind, and the music you listen to mixes with it and all plays back on the same ******* channel

But then you take it back to basics and start ******* around with psychedelics again
Who ever knew that pretty girls wouldn’t always be a head-trip?

I could have any normal girl I wanted
But now I just want a dark room
And silence
If only I didn’t have to open up and make out with her inside it

I could have any girl
If we just breathed in silence

I could have any girl
If my thoughts weren’t so violent
If I didn’t picture insanity
Whenever I look in a mirror and find it
Behind eyes I know have been capable of it this whole time

They have that curios ember
A white flash in a chocolate amber
With that faint ring of purple
And a pitch black center

I wish I could stick a needle in and take that silvery glint out
it’s white hot like the flash of a flint against gun powder
It just wants to make trouble
It adds bubbles to the puddles of personality
And in actuality it’s the only thing that keeps me alive when I wake up

I could have anybody
Except parents who cared, someone who understands,
And people I always made sure stay put
Like a shelf full of dolls
Like that outdoor playhouse
Like I play God

I think the problem through
I have human nature figured out
Almostly
I have myself figured out
Just a novelty
I’m incredibly cheap
Since philosophers are just writers without jobs
And jazz musicians are snobs
Former potheads are slobs
And God is still lodged in the eons of thoughts
When I wish I could take a break from this,
Part-time atheist
But I still can’t ignore he exists!

I could have any face I wanted
But I’ll just press mine up against hers until I feel better

I could have any pillow.
I still favor her sweater

I could have any romantic moment
But instead of love letters

I write poems
And I write them for me.

You hold my life in your hands
But they have holes in them Jesus!
I slipped through

My hands are paper
Turning pages
Folding up
Into shadow puppet birds
So I can fly away
Or stay afloat on this sea of wine and water
Thicker than the rivers running through the torn callouses of your healing touch

I don’t know how to swim in blood
I don’t want to get my feet wet
I don’t want you to wash them
I don’t want you to put new clothes on me
Or buy me a new outfit

Even if I’m running naked in the alleys springing off the highways where folly has dressed up
I would still feel guilty if you bought me clothes again

If blood washes dirt away
I’m still gonna come out smelling like pennies
Looking like rust
Chewing on the little pieces of iron those nails left

Still slipping through the cracks in your skin
And drifting onward until I float through the red door painted black
By the darkness I see as I watch it close behind me once again

There's a child who's youth is no longer marked by smooth skin.
He's calloused beyond recognition.
His mom can't even see the boy she once knew

She is plagued with worry
Drowning it out at the bars after work
And sobering up when a court mandate  allows her  to see her son
But that's only on every other weekend and alternating holidays.

Parenting party "a" shall receive the child for Christmas on even numbered years.
Parenting party "b" shall receive the child for Christmas on odd numbered years.

There's a child who's spine is no longer all that it used to be.
It's carried the weight of decimated families.
It's been stretched past all tensile capacity
As he's tried to pull himself together
Over and over.
Constantly being shattered, but always being able to stop the pieces from hitting the floor.

[insert jarring onomatopoeia for child abuse here]

The intensity from the hand that feeds him is no comparison to the gnashing teeth of the emotions driving it
As the hate, rage, and blindness is compiling
So is the doubt, fear, and confusion
A young child is left disillusioned
As his world is blown apart yet again
But the fibers of his spine reach out, hanging on to every glass-like shard

Refusing to let even one piece of himself go
Parenting party "a" may not love him but Jesus does
At least the Bible and his grandpa told him so

There is a child who's eyes don't sparkle
Except for each time tears refract the light of truth that's shining in
And It's blinding, searing, cauterizing the wounds
He is unwanted
He is abused
But even if that's all a result of his father's sin
He counts it as a mission failed
So the burden rests on him
If there was an easier yoke
the Bible and his grandpa left it all too hard to find

There is a child who is not care free
He has been indoctrinated as an employee
“Shut up!”
“Yes Sir.”

His stress is crushing his mental health
He can't move his feet fast enough
His resolve is crumbling to ash and dust
He's breaking
There's no faking anymore
He will never be able to do it right
So he starts looking for other doors

"Dad has a gun in the garage, I could...I should"

"No. What would Mom say?”

"I'll just run away" he says

"How far are you gonna get?
The shoes on your feet are mine!
The food on your plate is mine!
All you have is that coat your mom bought, 
that's plenty to get you through winter time!"

If only that little boy knew a way, truth, and light!

There's a child who's been in locked in a prison
It was a mold built by his father
A man who refused to listen
Just pushing his son even harder
Conform to my will!
Contort to my mold!
But that young boy is too broken to bend anymore
And he will soon be too bold
For He found the way. 
He knows deep love
He is God's son

There's a kid who is dead as of this day
His thick calloused skin lies in the ashes
His kinked spine is laying there in fragments 
His self is glass dust blowing through the plain
All of his tears still could not quench the flames
They sit upon the ash in pools stagnant
The prison stands strong as a crude accent
The child is gone but the mold for him stays

There is a man rising up from the dust
He cannot and will not fit in that mold
His back is straight and is made new again
Finally he knows the depth of God's love
Purified through fire and shining like gold
He's a new creature and now has smooth skin

Long before “inside” was invented
We were animals
Breathe, roar as one

I walk around like an old man Thanks to a bad back and mirrors

I don’t pay attention to ceilings

I don’t know millions of things

But mankind will label time and space to be productive I suppose

If Color brings context
I am blind
And don’t know what pictures are

Geometry and canvas
I can’t believe it’s not paper

Bring the tribes back with you

The cigarette I had afterwards
Felt better than every time we had *** combined

Basically,
I'd rather get cancer

If having *** was getting ******
I was drowning in it
But somehow you're okay with me ramming my **** into your skull
And this letter will be the mindfuck

Let me extrapolate
So extra!
pull those sheets off the bed late at night because you made a ******* mess again
And I don't enjoy laying in wet sheets

Because having to hold your head out of the toilet when you threw up from partying like a Highschool sophomore got old pretty ****** quick

And having to be the answer to every problem you had
trying to tell you how to fix it on your own
Was like handing you a loaded pistol, helping you aim at the target,
And then watching you shoot yourself in the foot

If sitcoms were ****** tunes
And you were still too simple to get it
That'd be my favorite ******* show

Until it bursts through the tv screen and moves all its baggage into the room where my writing desk used to be

I can't wait to beat the *** of the love child you thought we had
Shake and wake it up
Tell him the tooth fairy doesn't exist
And no matter how much **** she talks
That he will walk away with less money in the end
And all it will take is a fleshy hole to remind him of her

Your sugar daddy has a cavity
And before I replace it with a tooth wrapped up in a gold ring
I'm pulling you out
I guess you'll know what it feels like now?

Because for every time you made an excuse
I ran around in circles to
made sure you were happy
And when I got to the end of the marathon
You made me take you by the hand and walk to buy you ice cream

“Daddy” is not for grown ups
So don't act like it was serious
All you did was child's play
You wanted me to be a single father who ****** his daughter's brains out every night
And bought her toys whenever she wanted

If that was love
You were a game
And I got played

And.
it's ******* disgusting