brain of mush
     scrambled words and half formulated thoughts, uninspired,   like factory work

brain of mush, of
pudding, cold soup. I ride along the road, so many thoughts and half heartless. I'll leave you because I hurt myself.
You knew this,  you were comfort I didn't deserve.
So I throw it away.
I'm dumb. Brain of mush, soul already crushed. I'll miss your eyes though,  beautiful girl,  and your sweetness as I make my place somewhere far, and lost in the pages,  where no one bothers to read  

Brain is full of ****
Feel like I'm looking at a ***** mirror
This screen
seems smudged even though it isn't
the words are spinning in faint coherence

Im so tired of it all
I'm not even 30 & I already feel condemned.
I keep losing friends and acquaintances and 'love' and continue to rot
    in still motion.
I'm flabby and muscles are beginning to atrophy;
My cat ****** on my leg.
I ****** a hamster
And some drifter for a ticket to moulin rouge.
I took a risk the other day though; I'm going to set out and travel. It's what I've always wanted.
See the world from the eyes of a stranger.
I've dreamed 10 lives and I have another 9 to waste.
And this one was given away

the nights of humid air and loose sink hair
the night of barking dogs and screaming frogs
the night of silent cars and purple mars
the night of blood red wine and healing scars
the night of doves and crows flying
the night of sleeping lice and dying minds
the night of black and white pictures and leftover love
the night of swimming horses and pressed up diaries
the night of fools beckoning to the hall
the night of a concert played in perfect pitch to a deaf audience
as they all applaud

Lost in so many ways. Losing my girlfriend, lost all my friends, losing my hair and my mind. I can only speak through a phone, and in there I find soulless circuitry. My name means nothing to me now, I was orphaned sometime ago. I want to crawl in the woods and dig my pit. It never goes away, I just make friends with the same strangers and acquaintences, weary of the breeze and the trembling leaves

sun ,  
i hate you.
    I hate you as you rise,
  as your gerber face creeps over the grass.
i  hate the purple water and the ants
   which march in unison to battle drums .
  i hate the orange juice smile as you pack away your things,
  i hate the
  whisper when it's already lost.  miles ahead,
   i hate a few things -- but the list gets shorter as i get
   older.
why hate what you cant change?

To plunge my knife into your sternum
Would be too much effort
You breathe because I am
indifferent
  the
Wandering soul sits idle in a bush
awaiting your tempered heart
& jovial face
The angry ones swallow whole
all the foolish ones,
     prancing about with so little care. You make it easy to hate & hate is how we
survive

Stay inside.
Talk to your dog and Dance with your baboon.
flooded horizon, flowrrs bloom
tomorrow
🥡🥡🥡🥡🥡🥡🥡🥖🍷

anemic
emboldened
last dance dalliances

The literary equivalent of taking a big
**** in her mouth
Gouged out
And running to the ground
Down to your pretty toes

stomped on
A pigeonheld coward
Subservient to form rather than flow
Take out a loan
Go home
Spill your load
I've seen enough
You talk too much
& not enough

I scream for you
LOVE IS REAL

I run my fingers against your ivory thighs. I sigh. I whistle a tune and make breakfast, the crows howl why.

2 after 10, the den is made but no body barks.  What goes on.  I slide away,  I ask how.
I touch your lips and saddle your chest.  I pick up your hair and make a noose of my self. I wither in the light as your beauty prances. I can't believe it.  I speak
"God is willing"
God is real so long as the universe is a perfect mistake.  I touch your brow, I kiss your tears, I make love. Lay another bridge, the water is running.  So what if the rivers run dry when the rain lets me love. I drink from crystal coves. The dirt settles over me and I count to tomorrow. What then

I got paid today

oh I got paid

it was 3 chestnuts  and a used pair of socks straight from goodwill.

still musty

and with plenty of lint.


I work hard so I can feed my mouse

Sick in so many ways
  Everything hurts in one way or another
And it used to be humanity's only concern was eating and breeding,  now it's wondering whether you're even alive

I spit at the creator,
   I call out my own name.  More complaints, but that's all we can do whilst we struggle to die

Love is forever they say, through all the nights of psychosis and turmoil and uncertainty, love is forever

Through all the days dreaming of acres of bliss among the green hills and your animals free and alive, love is forever.

Through all the kisses on your wrist when you no longer had the strength to continue, love is forever.

Through all the mania and pain and poverty and suffering, love is forever.

When you weaped uncontrollably and I left for some days because I had to attend to my mental health,
our love was still forever, so why would you betray me?

I knew when you made these promises that I'd be looking back now as a naíve fool, but the love was still real in those moments, it just wasn't forever..

But it didn't feel like enough. The yogurt was dry and the gaurds would bash his head with a mallet. He carved "deceit" into the walls and gargled with soap.
Push ups for days, and sit ups until he was a man.
13 deaths isn't anything as long as you're free.
The bars would not budge, and steel doesn't rust

My ******* head hurts. My eyes hurt.
My head hurts,
Headache.
My back hurts, my shoulders hurt.
My eyes hurt.
My ear is clogged.
My foot hurt

So tired as to be delirious; the duck quacks in the barnyard and the mouse suckles on cow
droplets, hale stacked up like so,  and the little girl dances in the shadow light.
"I'll be dead soon"
  so will I 
 I've made plans and I'm never late

Endless neuroses

pulling the trigger takes courage
Jumping from a burning building
Is an of act of desperation
Where this ends I don't know
I keep walking towards the fire

My brain is like a wooden log
& My lung is full of grease & smoke

I am merely a man chasing an expectation
I should give up on love because it's been a force of unrelenting agony
but I grip onto the stem like a monkey choking a stalk

What more do you want from me?
Why do these people exist
  when it's my world?

If anyone knew
They'd point to the dog and say
"Speak"

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

I am a nothing man,
I sore amongst the eagles. I play with the itinerate dish wash band, I plant my seeds in the field of excess.
I watch your governments crumble and your
women ***** themselves for pocket change;
I see the rolling hills and the divide and cascade and assorted minutia.
I may not have much but I have time, and time only exists in the mind. So why cry

The reality is we'll all die alone
I'd thought maybe you'd be there
to guide me
through the next realm.
but the reality is
I'll be there alone.

in the fabric of time and space, we are one,
but
  here we're on our own

I remember Rust
Putting his **** up my **** with the thorns
I said no
But his moldy breath evaporated in my headache and the hot **** was good then, like chock late milk.
But I wanted another straw so I opened my curtains and went fishing and saw you there.. You were performing surgery on a baby and put a donut in its belly, but
I still went to the sock hop the next day with you, cause I love you
Maybe

It's not enough to be a good writer or poet anymore
You have to be a savvy business man as well; really sell yourself.
Get that Facebook account and Instagram primed with the right photos and have your Snapchat story good while posing over a balcony in Dubai,
really have your abs showing, and flex your biceps.
Have your book sitting atop the makeup canvass as you sell your product, and make sure the lighting is ideal, and make sure you post bi-weekly on YouTube and include the ad-code for 15 percent off,
Also look at the analytics to deduce your audience: Jamaican maids with blue pantsuits
Be savvy and cutthroat, and remember *** sells, but not at much as surface noise, so open your mouth and say.........,.............

Hp Lovecraft cat had a funny name.
I still need to read his volumes.
They sit on a shelf in the kitchen.
I write bad poetry.
I was awake all night
My eyes burn  like heat. My retinas are withered.
To sleep I go.  To bed i Make my home.  I curl up with my oversized pillow, made of foam. The lizards need their adrenochrome

Throbbing along. Grieving one.  Where did you go.  Where did the water drain down.  A ******* was not too far.  I walked there and fell. Broke my nose on the glass

PEARL

moldovite. it didn't work ⁸

this is my therapy moreso than music. I can say what I want -- I'm not confined to a melody , or attached to any notes-
it's free form. it's its own music and has its own dance; I can laugh,
and cry,
and scream, and say how it really is-- and it's really great;
  really great , and doesn't have to be that grand. There doesn't need to  be a big crescendo.
just soaking up the sun with an empty glass in the dull noon is sometimes enough

******* toes wasn't as great as I thought it'd be prior to first doing it.
I always imagined that it'd taste like like candy. It tasted like a hand. A flavorless hand. I was so underwhelmed. Everything is always a lie, even feet

I feel like Trevor in uk82
****** and full of industrial glue
Breaking windows
And slashing tires
Robbing homes and setting fires
Swazi on the head you don't give a ****
The world treats you like a boot's imprint
Alone in the cell you can't breathe
The warden cries evermore,
And blood gushes from your slashed veins and the littered head of
tyrants
Roll down a hill to hell

they burned the cities.
they burned the pharmacy,
they burned the bus stop
, they burned the libray and the depot,
they burned the fire station,
of course they burned the police station.
they burned the homeless man crying for his socks.
they burned the dog,
they burned the manicured grass
they burned the log cabin and the phonebook and the 12 hay stacks across the way
but they didn't dare burn the synagogue
but they did
burn a church,
and they did burn a zoo. the animals ran free

I have obvious brain damage.
my perception is distorted
My fingers look foreign. The words come out weird. My internal monologue is stifled.
But I persist.
What's normal to you
Is abnormal to the next guy.
I'll still write a masterpiece with this broken brain;
I'll still see the world with murky eyes.
I've lived much longer than expected.
Everyday is a bonus.
Every new poem, every new song, every new
creation is a miracle.
an act of defiance
I'm glad I've left something - and I'm stronger than I thought

😋🌭😂🌭🌭🖕🖕🖕🖕🖕😜😝😝😝🙁
Opulant like a library
Tucked away in a Dusty cellar
Your noose hangs low
Your cheeks are flushed
Kiss the flame

Back to the ugly

Like a cyclical hell.
I was here 7 years ago, & I wondered if things would be different.
All procrastination and all sides quests -

If you're resolute on the end, then it will end.

These people and places I intermingled with were mere distractions.  Happiness is a warm gun
- lennon

People have too much hope

Mushrooms
My lady is staring at me with love
Bono is being weird
I wrote a little poem
This is fun
I probably have brain stuff
Profoundly profound. . Jnndmrkrke jdj

I can't write this poem

  I sit up like a pig & see a half baked moon

Your reason for dissertion & death was inadequate and thus we sentence you to death

My ***** are warm

I'm so alone that I have dreams with no one in them

I'll write a song sometimes while asleep & awake in disgust
As I realize it's a beetle

These quizzical looks warm my starchy heart

Who knew crying was the remedy for sadness
, The only ones who care are your moths and they barely even do

I hope I see you again someday when you're shrunken and pleading for
      ****** blood

These days wrap around me like a prayer
      left unanswered since January so
I drive my car to the Chinese shop
& Squat next to
A bearded man playing a grey shoe

0900099

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

Yes
  historical
points of labor
who organizing in dens.  the 80s. Prior, themselves
(plumbers organizing with plumber etc)

**** pop off
workers doing things, industrial lines. basically, the factory all together union.
Cutters
the station didn't matter. Everyone the same.  spreading widely, and became the COW.  quite the political force,  won a lot a
protections IN sync with a stout.
Call me yobber and the street clear.
Stamina

"WHAT'S YOUR WORD COUNT?
WHAT'S YOUR WORDCOUNT?" he shouted

I don't know, but I make my words count

This girl interrupted my sleep
I never talk on the phone but she insisted;
crippling OCD and trigger fixations.
Her word is 'shoot"
If you say 'shoot"
She'll immediately recede into herself and become mute for the entirety of the day.
We moved on from that;
She told me she liked my voice, I told her she's got a cute laugh.
She didn't seem so crazy after the 3rd hour

She was truly perfect. Body like aphrodite
6ft tall, freckled nose and radiant eyes like a forest
Then she told me something
And now sleeping next to me she's like a stranger
5 months like that. I wish I knew sooner. And now I'm angry at God because I know I can't do better. I just wanted it to work but now it can't.
And to think her name was Hope

I can't write I can't write I can't write I can't write they took my brain they took my brain and my soul i am nothing we are nothing I pass the dirt road once again

Tapping a phone screen in a yellow room with white walls,
breathing in chemical solution from Tuesday's
mold treatment
The ham sits half eaten, half defrosted.
There are dead women in my head who despite being dead still haunt my soul with vindictiveness.
There is animal hair on the rug and amimal feces in the flower ***.
A horn sprouts up from behind the TV wall.
There is a percolating coldness and it falls over me with the understanding that there is no escape.
My car is in the junkyard, my money
is in a billionaire's pocket,
my sanity is squandered concentrating on vicarious social media delusion.
I am a modern day human and nothing is wrong here.

Everything will be taken away,
Everything you loved a hollow shell, everything that made you feel whole a blank smear, everything that loved you , a black smudge,
Your heart in a drawer
Locked away,
Your brain behind glass,
Your soul in a cloud, your
Face in a pool,
Your mouth on a jury,
Your friend in a cell,
Your child on an auction, your faith in a bag of money,
Your dreams in a funeral.

You will still be here, breathing, but not necessarily alive

Toothless
Fat

Hobbit.

Tip toe along a grey road; pick roses; pick plums.

TV on at 3, but most likely youtube.

I told my friend about my burthday.

I feel the carcinogens in my lungs.

I hit a new PR on close grip.

I have thoughts at 2 miles an hour.
I drive a Scion.

I blast suicide boys with my brother to be edgy but really like cannibal corpse.
I won't live to 50.
I'm sorry to no one.
I have a head ache; I cook meat, with hair.
You will one day be proud.
You will dance in
a pool of rain
you will be loved, love like fantasy, not
Truth. There will be roses in the corridor, and
leaves in the cellar like a dim hallucinaton in moonlight

I have realized that im a prose writer who just writes with

odd



spacing.

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

out on the lawn



you've got packed lunch.

your friends are dumb


and i'm just about to dive
down.


hand me
the torch--


in the bed post
i buried
her,

and she still breathes in my ear

ever after all these years

I wear the
glove

the tight red glove
that shines    under the light of the desktop monitor.


I feel the notches in
the pig
skins

and I feel the braided hair

and I feel the slimy

glue
that is pressed on    the cheeks like so.


I wear my red glove

and I drive to the hill
where I  pray for forgiveness

Do t forget to smash that subscribe button nigeers

Is this a haiku
Immersed in twilight suns
It hurts to be free

I don't CARE

I wander through the ancient
gardens,
I **** the ****** in her little slit.

I burn the temple,

I pray to the last priest on judgement day. **** my ******* with a 22inch
cactus.

I don't care.
you don't matter.
******* all.

you all mean nothing to me.
         Ill die alone,

but at least I won't be afraid.


last embrace.
must I dream and always see your face.

lover

lover

leave me for good.          leave

me please.

They persist and feast on my **** which is gelatinous and sickly
& paraded by the local
satanic convention

I'm awake at 7am
& Have managed to dream about crickets in prayer

I have no boss
But I still feel subjugated. Maybe some day
I'll be free
when my corneas are fitted for the massacre

I used to love
someone
named Cambria,
now she
sits behind glass unaware
of my existence;
I saw this coming