Writing while half awake & dealing with ***** trash
slide down the slide see the blue sky
I've opened my heart to no one but the night
Starving til i have a 6 pack.
Fat pigs sleep in hay
I've rolled in the dirt and want my fix
To see my ****
To see the veins writhe. No love being a blob.
I want to cease it all so it can make sense somehow. Drop the spoon' pick up the knife
Blocked me the second there was push back
the second the cacophony of your own voice was met by another
I'm a lot like you. It's easy to be yourself when no one is watching
Don't sell out
The line at the post office stretched for half a mile and it made me sick
Now this is contrived
Now this is about humanity
Now the ravens flock around the eviscerated mound
My jacket was black & i had 3 like it
No line is too long when youre dead inside
'Crazy' people dont post goofy poems on some poem sharing site to exalt their 'genius'
They just **** in a hallway or cut their **** off
Ooo ooo ooo oooloooo crazy
I'm depressed and I've since made that distinction a while back
I get dumber by the day
Pretty soon I'll be too dumb to understand
Drooling in the wind with my
Eyes wide open
My face doesnt fit my head
My shoulders don't fit my legs.
My clothes don't fit my back
My chest doesn't fit this this shirt
I d be fine being ugly if it didn't matter
And i wish I could wear your smile
Went through the forest and sat on a rock in the sun. There was no life there but a barking dog
I walked back through the mud
and uploaded a picture
I see an invisible door
I peak through
Weary and bored. Fresh air
everyday feels like a breakdown
In the pan
Covers and heated beds. Making up stories for morons
liars awake them
Keep dreaming of death
The death does nt phase me.The clean up, annoying
If it goes on like this
what will the neighbors say
Rolloing in filth with the feces scraping the light
With a balll and fist
Get waht you deserve
No fun now when it's all for keep
What used to be hard is now soft
& what used to hurt feels like laughter
If you push it in maybe it will
divided in two skulls two lives
2 livers.3 fingers
5 hands.6 legs
and green roses on your table
and breakfast for the
dogs. I walk along the embarkadero. Feet in cement
funeral Mass will be celebrated for Margarita "Maggie" Iglesias at 1: 00 p.m. , at Sacred Heart Catholic Church today, November 28, 2020. Burial will follow at Palm Valley Memorial Gardens Cemetery in the Ceballos-Diaz Funeral Home of Edinburg. Sadie is in charge of arrangements.
As theyre relieved so are the patent watchers said the director.
No need for nose bleeds or salty iron. Count your pennies, Stew shine on rain
Had enough of ***** casualties and stringy viscera. Eat your own ***** and your own ***** Fish.
An age of time
The test trial for the vaccine will be available in designated treatment zones within the Pittsburg municipality says the health director.
The sale extends until wednesday.
Many styles in women's sunglasses
Soda & fleas tongue
Normalized by 5
with a chip in place
Unlock it now
Ruiners WASP. And guns pointing
Wound up : impulse bit blown . leak away red res red red red
It toook so long
Female, 18, white
5 ft 7 in, Toned
USA > California > Anaheim place
Girlfriend Next Door💙
It took time to forget
I didn't think i would but i did
And i remember the good
And fires burning
What did I go crazy for
so much there's a tear in this heart
So much the claws come clawing
the knees dont bend
So much the surprise is apathy and the face is demented like rot on a lung
I hang my head inside. I wrap up the good ones who wont go. Free as ever.
I can't look anymore all
All I see are dead lizards and gaping holes
The lonely watchman takes his drag; what was your name
Lost my way long ago
doesnt mean I cant find another
it's been quiet lately so I just listen
it's well lit here on a superfical level
But it's dark inside
I can't see whats in front of me
Or what's lurking in the shadows
Pretend to be asleep
The mourning is almost here
This is the sound of a well acclimated and upstanding member of society eating his öats
I spoon said öats into my esophagus
with great dexterity
And read many instruction manuals.
I practice essentialism. I cry when i need to.
Shake hands with my spouse
I forget the point now
My biggest fear is being alone
Or ending up a loser
But both outcomes are predicated on people's perception of me
But perceptions change
If i had money I could wear a bathrobe to the store with a zebra cowboy hat
And the money would make me eccentric
$$$$ could buy an infant from a mother.
$$$$ could buy you a liver from a healthy farmboy in peru
$$$$$ could buy you tickets to a ******
Thats all that matters in this shitshow.
Your personality is irrelevant
They want what youve got
They dont want you
Was it love
Does a child love his imaginary friend.
It was real
You made me cry when i was all alone
And the knife pressed even deeper
I couldn't face the day knowing I hurt
nobody but static air
I lost all sanity then
And you just laughed, and i just turned out the light and walked towards anywhere
at the point of giving no *****
Im a lost cause
I need community
Im severed from my tribe
a talking head with a lizard brain
hopscotching over coals
The hardest part is going on when you've already made your grave
Are there still beautiful things
speeding towards the window
firecrackers in delighted limbo
I had no mail
but the trash you sent me
You want me gone
So do i
Took a picture head-on on instagram
Not a smile
i was happy
It's a step towards real
all my relationships fall apart because i cant just be one grounded person
I am a thousand people, and there
Aren't very many good ones in the bunch
The guy typing is ok,
His name is jo
i hope i die in my sleep
I hope i feel
Breeze as i slip away
She wipes away my
2 + 2
But it's a matter of opinion.
Who's to say how dark is the night
When it's merely a shade
There is no Reason
"Wheres the SPRITE ****"
Drink a sprite
******* and **** my weasil
She sleeps in hay
The world is dead
and theresa cries in her soft hands
Stop laughing at me you ***** before i sever your throat and place
You on a mantle
with the sun
and saturn with his children
No heirs for a
No heirs for the priest.
It sets down in the blue
fist on my eye with black tears
Boot on my throat and grey years.
Spit and dust and powder lies
& powder kegs
Erupting in the night
Children in the blue light
Grey tongues and swollen
Rolling into dusk
No days count
Adolescence like curfew
And kittens by the string
"No more no more"
The door shuts.
January has april showers
We walk alone.
the swing sets cold
the days go on til infinity
mercy and clouds part
way for october
She makes me feel like filth
Like unwashed hobo
like prickly cactus in july
Like crimson tides in june
Like **** in the summer
Like blue milk in august
Like pansies in mid air
Like stripes on a lion
Like roses on a new born
Like daffodils on a grave
Like poinsettias on halloween
Like doves on a stillborn
Like grass on cement
Like numbers in a poem
Like black on a farewell
Like trying when you
Should have given up
I wont give
Up. I wont give up. It means too
much to me
It means too much to bleed and to feel
so much nothing
This is not for you
This is not for your ears.
Hide away in the cellar
And ragtime witch pop.
We drag our sins across looming
Going to oregon
buying some acres
Buying a pet
Buying a shed
Buying a home in the hills with the dead spring gardens and gumdrop suns and making a life
where time stands still behind trees
the bills pressed in pillows
The saints plead for mercy
I had so
Much time to
Blew me away pressed
My face to the wall
Shattered my lungs with a blow and
Danced on the street
The equals had a name and they sang hallelujah
I'll be there
Hallelujah I'll be there.
Wrinkled bags and gelatinous
How was it then
How was it when gods sang to
I have realized that im a prose writer who just writes with
It's time to stop pretending,
Or just time to be courageous and write what im supposed to.
But i cant be here anymore.
2 thousand poems and i have said nothing
Like a rothko.
Blue over white
Black stretched over red and crimson
The air is hot and heavy
The walls are quiet in the morning
The fragments of ash
The violins sound for the dove
The canvass stands stoic amongst glazed over eyes in the lobby
And in the dawn there is nothing left to mourn
The painting was finished
I could travel 100000 miles spanning all continents meeting countless people and encountering numerous obstacles and happenings but I'd ultimately still be stuck with myself.
Maybe that's why the wanderlust wore off.
You cant run from yourself, but merely distract yourself.
Sitting feels like dying but traveling feels like futility to reach a destination of which you never arrive.
But i keep searching nonetheless. Maybe the trick is killing yourself.
metaphorically of course. Complete detachment, dissolving into space like a
liquefied time and the absense of material location.
I'll still be there.
I'll still be here
It makes no sense but it felt good making it
I don't need 'meaning' to appreciate something
I can appreciate it just for being.
It says enough without
You can't live without purpose. You can only **** time
Dont mistake being alive for living
This may be junk
There are commas and there are questions
And junk in your spoon
Dread is like family
Bonded by blood and
i wear my skin
like pearls from a
I wear my skin like silent dusk
I wear my face like loose fog
I wear my pain like dripping skies
I wear my sorrow like fading night
And pray to human
What else can i do
What else can i be
staring into a blank field and breaking my promise
the noise drips into my shell, waves like shallow graves
anxiety clutching me
And sweat beads
For covers too cold
For the ****
the pain and
I know what it's like to be dead
Like the fatal dose, so sensual
The Siren of my black ocean