There is a brand of sickness I will never expel--
He manifests in ways
That stake your body
In hell
I'll never be the dreamer I am watching,
At least to keep me company while we still sing.

And so I met a suffragette with moonlight for hair--
In desperate need of blood, I drank what she had to spare
And now I think I'll dream a little more,
At least to keep on running from this fatal Thing

With Michael soaring over me,
I am the lowly vampire
I do not inspire
And I cannot create

I drank up all our blood
My love was not enough
We had to let it go
And sink our buddy's fate.

I'm host to many parasites, but one of them is me--
Who compounds the vacancy,
Which meets itself Free
A lot of stars were cast out in the process,
Well, they all run away from me. Don't you see?

I see myself reflected in their image
Yet disparate and beautiful,
I let them Be
I miss them in the dark
No, I will never see you
Again

So bring me to a Happy End

All four of our hands evoke pathos.
All four of these walls are more easily seen in the morning,
Except the day tears leaked from my eyes.

But I didn't feel human,
At least not natural.

You didn't gently go like I wanted,
I made you give that baby tooth the last wrench it needed and now my brain feels all better baby,
No heart to argue against,
Full steel going off into the night.

And then we'll see smart-sounding, ambiguous lines resolve
One way or the other,
I suppose.

And it's not that you did anything
Wrong,
But exactly the opposite
That hurts, love.

some days my head feels
like a loose baby molar.

don't rock, don't, but
rock it with your tongue.

IF it feels good, take it on!
THE joy of life is waiting
BRAKEMAN, come creative, please. With
TURNS of consolation.

MY heart will find its bedrock
WAY down, where we forget.

BY the way, she's beautiful, and
BRIGHT, with smiling

EYES.

Nuclear holocaust.
Empty houses.

Irradiated dust on the shelves.

People's silhouettes on the sidewalk.
No detectives.

"Sir?"

Then it all comes flooding back. We're still here. Right.

Is that any way to speak to your mother?

I scan the ground beef. Can haz. 2 peppers. Yep, can haz. An onion, American cheese. Mhm. I swipe my food stamps card. Kitty lives to see another day.

Enjoyment. Enjoy it enough. Hope you have a nice day! I hope Jesus has a nice day too.

But what if he doesn't? What if simply going forward draws the utmost hatred and ire? What if I tell you I can't change the story? At some junctures, you'd go into a rage. Or maybe scoff at me.

Just look at me, trying to excuse myself! I don't even know what's going to ha... ah, there's that gift again.

So I walk into paved paradise and there's the big yellow sun.

And there are rusted cars. One of them with its windows cracked. I peer inside and see they were reading a book by a really clever, super famous writer.

I guess I'm the most clever writer in the universe. But that doesn't change how ******* stupid I am. I start the only car in the known universe that still runs.

I'm passing empty swingsets. Lawn mowers in the front yard. The final reprieve of every restaurant, motel, and living room couch.

Vacancy, no vacancy. What's the difference?

Honk!

God, I wish you would stop doing that! Or no, I love it. The company of another person. The engineering of roads. The engineering of the horn. I take a second to apologize to you in my head and start thinking about Indian people honking at each other. When everyone was here.

My phone rings, and now I'm back to being upset. I wish you would just stop doing that. Take me off your list. I don't want any. You'll hate me. I won't enjoy it enough to say it was all worth it. I'm a predator seeking prey. You're allowed to just exist, but I'm not, and I understand why. I feel perverted when I try to interact with you. You have to let me in. If I think you're ugly I'm wrong. Just stop calling. The economy is terrible and the whole world is falling apart. Take me off your list. I'm the one calling you telling you to call me and it's just been causing problems.

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee."

...what was that?

I guess my mom's right, maybe I'm schizophrenic. But I didn't hear it. Jesus ******* christ man, read between the lines!

I don't read things. I don't find things.

Anyway, that was nothing. It was irrelevant. We have those. It's called living.

As I pull into our driveway I decide I regretted the whole holocaust thing and I fall back in love. Everything snaps back into place and all the cute corpuscles set in motion and the world and all its people come back to life. It's not as grotesque as I think it is, as long as I don't look inside myself for too long, as long as there is something else to distract myself from it.

You cuddle me and validate this little idea I have that I'm the same innocent boy I was years and years ago. That the bad things in the world aren't my fault. I write another ****** poem I don't care about and you like it once or twice and I won't bother to look at your profile because I've accepted I can't keep up with everything. That's just nature. Too prolific for its own good and always trying to spin that like it's some good deal. Oh trust me it is sometimes but what the hell, like...

And he whittles his stick
And it whittles him back
They've done it before
But they're glad to be back
He's fletching an arrow
He's making a bow
It feels a bit different from decades ago,

But he has the Wind
Like never before

"What's the matter honey?
Tap water not good enough for you?"

Yes,
I see the ***** working.

I'm sliding past the mirror
To adjust
Today's arrangement.

The sharp scent of clove--
Cinnamon, honey and ginger
Will melt her nerves today

I will invite her into my home,
And offer her a glass of Perrier, or Fiji
As I humbly sip
A glass of tap water

She loves that ****.
She will toss back her head and laugh

We'll build our own distiller
And jam out
To punk rock.

I will be subsumed in her
With moans of approval and submission
And she
Will turn her head and ask:
"Uhh, you alright there?"

Revisit the infinite
Decline a gift
Oh, you'll never know what you lost
Was it nothing
Was it everything
Was it somewhere in between?

I know the kiss of your summertime lips
They taste like salt, and lilac
And *** and coke

You don't disappoint, my clear christine
Your love tastes like
A nectarine

In a perfect life,
She'd only betray you after your last breath
And it's hard to be mad when you're dead.

That's the best perspective to have on life,
Dissolution of the ego--
I know there are things difficult to behold
But that's the world you grew into,
And how will you meet it?
She wants to know

And so do you.

We lose our tempers inside her
She digests each mess for what it is
But sometimes I just think--
I'll save it for my dying day.

It's a teleological fantasy
This is getting out of hand
To love sweet Dis
Was all I could think

With purpose draining out of me
With purpled eyes that barely see.

Ah, purple! The color of royalty!
This fair spring air is choking me.

Each bead of magic,
Faetal symphony!
I lost this poem
Unto the sea

And you and I were just a dream
I'm self-defined,
Eternal reach.

Will I ever pour my blood from botched and sloppy urns
Into refined and ornate pottery?
My complex-smelling potpourri,
The exhibitions left by those great artists of history.

Grandiose. That's what they call a sense of self-importance
When your **** don't measure up
We have different views, and whose is skewed?
Of my little stream of blood.

They found Bach dusty and dead
Some ink long dried of a brilliant head
Will I ever have anything to show for it,
Was I a master of craft?

Or does death make me daft?

I remember meeting the girl behind me
in poetry class.

I remember fingerpainting with Jeremy
and loving her
in the grass
by a stream

I remember hills and cold and wine and you

I remember dim-lit rooms

I remember your sister and your parents and your redone bathroom
The hot tub and your dogs and the bed in your room

I remember the traced hands and writing
Under the drape hanging above your bed

Your things were in boxes
But not you, not you.

I remember the singer in your band,
and the drummer in your band,
and your friend from high school.

I remember taking your benzos.

I remember losing my first apartment and moving back home.

I remember that Panic! at the Disco show:
Shut up and dance with me

Moving back to be close to you

Comics and friends, books and loose ends
Arguments and apartments
And dog sitting weekends

I remember me asking for the beans and you spilling them
And trying to hold the beans down
And getting way too mad over them
And throwing your fish at your house,

and driving to Florida and back,
it haunts me.

I remember what it felt like without you around

I remember sending a picture of you
that you said not to send.

I remember saying things
I'd rather not have said.

I remember being blind to Tara and selling my guitar
And cutting myself and arguing with my parents.

I don't need the perfect summer daze

I don't need that song you played
I don't need the things you said
About me
I don't need going to France

I don't need getting engaged

I don't need holding you up with strong arms

I don't need to dominate your ****** desires

I don't need to get dizzy and dance around beach towns,
I only knew you for a year

I don't need to be your friend but I'd love to be your friend
And I could
But that's never going to happen

I don't need that one last word
before we both are dead

I don't need to envy you anymore,
I don't need you
I don't need to compare everything to you
But I'm not sure if i can stop

?
I don't need your legend
So why did it pierce my heart?

!
A year is not that long.
And fear is not an art.

My lord, my lord
I don't want to be king
A peasant, a peasant
A peasant I'll be!

I'll live in the swamp.
I'll live under a log
And try not to bother a soul.

But under my log
Would be very clean
And you'd be quite surprised
I have all I need!

To run my own kingdom
Of me, and just me
But lord, oh lord
I don't want to be king.

The stress of running
Everything
I judge to be too much for me
I'll help along your Majesty
But lord, oh lord
I don't want to be king.

Why run so much of the world through me?
I shan't be trusted, fuckey old me
I'm dumb, I'm crass, and just... **** me

Lord,
THANK YOU Lord
That I'm no king.

I know it's not
But if you consider the bold arrogance of all this
You begin to understand where the seething starts
You swear you are being forced to waste the time
But it doesn't matter
Because you would hate the thing that wasted it
It's blubbering mouth trying to explain to you
We've all been painted by numbers

I swear I swear I'm not the sky
Don't hate me

The thing is saying

And this is why I always think
I've got my work cut out for me
That must be me at different points
Right now or down the road
Trying to forgive the thing for not being that great
And accepting that I "have enough"

But "stay hungry kid"
Always fight for more
Always fight for better
You gotta be kidding me

I seemed a shoddy chance at best
I lost it for a while
I mean no one likes to be kept on hold
And treated like they're small, and lost.

But necessity sees us all confined
And left with our sweet? deaths

But today I am not lost at all
My eyes are rolling dice
When I toss and turn in bed at night
When my youth just brings me spite

No, today I am not lost at all
My world lent me confidence
And told me, "That's a treasured
Thing, enjoy it while you can."

In a way, this didn't make sense
My automatic writer
My anarchic disembodied chemist

How could they all be smarter than me?
I've seen you before
The ******* demi-urge

It feels so tenuous!
I need you to mean something.
WAIT--
As if you don't mean anything!

And something started to unravel in my head.

Yes, we know. That was where it started to end.

Do we rip it faster or pull it slower?
I guess it all just depends.

Necessarily, I would take my role and you, yours.

Necessarily, I would be something evil.

Necessarily, I might be said to require a savior.

Necessarily, sometimes I wouldn't find one.

Emergent phenomenon.

Glass house.

Tickled pink, then red, then black.

White people. Tan people. Black people. Red people.

Rainbow death man.

Accused of contrivance, no kid that's just bold reality.

Going to bed.
Forfeit.
Calling in sick.
Feels like we could have, should have, would have done more.

God can't be greater,
Forced to compete with himself.

A quantum God,
A limited God.

A God who turned into Satan.

A God who can't.

A God who's scared.

I'll never be greater,
I have to be me.

I follow her underneath,
Passing by sad ports to citadels of death
I watch Businessmen exhale black smoke from their wretched tracheae
Of course I'll follow her underneath too
Where love is an alien thing that verily withers.

I mix blood and venom in my brain,
A way to steady myself against the immutable tide

Her gardens explode in the sunlight
Her planes fall from the sky
Her organs fail and her words decompose

Underneath it all,
Where Gwen Stefani wonders if you really love me.

Something leaves me and I grow anxious,
It's not me who follows her out there
But my body bleeding on her doorstep
Arrived just in time for a silent bullet from behind...

But the shooter could be the end of the most intricate Rube Goldberg machine--
Just a knock on the door.

Why did she change her mind?
What has she gone to find

What if I'm the one
Sipping at the garden
In a golden chalice?

What if it's my fault
That everybody dies
And it's all ****** up?

I wouldn't be surprised
If I was the antichrist
I sit on my throne all day
And cry, cry, cry.

I love you dear and deeply,
But oh, not like I should...
The angels see our dance
I lost some grace there, to be sure

But plenty still are shining
And they form a daring wish
They twinkle there, pretending
That they are oblivious.

But you've loved me so truly!
So what am I to gripe?
An arrogant, pathetic beast
God's hand relents to swipe.

I love you dear and deeply,
But oh, not like I should...
A quiet room, my heart designs
To leave you if I could

But safety is the hazard
To which my heart addicts
And trying to convince myself
True love is what this is

But too long now I tuck myself
To bed with monthly checks
That you get from the government
Is this some blessed hex?

I, too, could claim disabled
But time to get a job
One bed inside this rented room--
The princess and the snob.

I wish that I could force myself
To love you like I ought
A sure sign of the cruelty
This universe has wrought

I love you dear, and deeply
But oh, not like I should
I'm glad that I could break away,
So glad you understood.

The bad poems are just my way of saying it's awkward,
It doesn't always fit,
It's difficult sometimes
To know the answer

It was all in your head,
God is no abuser!
He is a setter of trials
Who lost control of his arm
Call that Satan.

Not God's dominion.

Something in... you... went sour,
And made its own choice

A choice for sin!
A selfish, repugnant indulgence

How could you do it!?
You know better.
God gave you the tools,
And you misused them!

And you always think you're innocent!

Ridiculous.
Utterly ridiculous.

You grasp
For the clutch
Of a wisp
Of a secret... but she knows.

Hands clasped.
Just a touch
Just a kiss
You can keep it... but she knows.

This time
You find a gem and you swallow
Make it like your heart, or your stomach
Swimming inside is the essence of a moment

You peer out at the world
From inside your sparkling skull
And you think yet another sacred thought--
"...but she knows."

but she knows, she knows.

Let's talk about my forced position.

The nucleation of demons,
You allege that I allow it.

No one wants it!

Hey, maybe I'll become an electrician.

Would you foster my comeuppance?

I've got no choice in any matter.

Who the **** am I even angry at?
Maybe Bowser?

Ha, hahaha.

Back to being depressing.

The original stigma comes from the fact
That I'm only complaining to myself
There is no oversight
I am tearing myself apart
And you don't care
In some scenes you only laugh
And now every time I laugh, I choke
Because I don't want to be the one
It's not right
There should be something,
Something established for this person.

Vein
Silence
Thumping walls but the rhythm's canceled

Ignorance
Periphery
Awareness
A cracked eye

A coma

The rhythm was canceled

But not yet

Crest crest crest CREST crest cress  s s
Who knows if it happened
Thinking about it destroys the thought of thinking about it

So don't think about it

Take her hand, let's go
Don't hesitate, why?

It never happened
The rhythm's canceled
Heart knocking against itself
He's a bit of a pervert

I am not the devil
The devil is a ghost,
And me
I'm alive
Unless I'm not invited

All the times we shared
Were trite
And cheap
Now the ashes of
Good memories
Slide from my hands
And onto the ground

Hardly was their purpose found.

All the trips to parks
And drives at night
Lost in time
All vain, and trite

I thought I had my reason down

Now logic fails me
I'm a clown

This wasted time is no device--
For as I live this life of dice
The meaning's in the guts to roll

I never did.

It took its toll

There are things which,
If I tried to explain them to you,
You would reserve further false judgment that I could not explain away with words.

You seem to be resigned to looking down on me

You seem to be adamant that I haven't thought this through already

Why can't you be more open, like me? I know only so much questioning is worth doing,
But you don't see the things you are missing with me.

I am not the worst at lying, and I try to only do that when I have to.

But I am really bad at telling the truth, without seeming like I am lying, when I have been accused.

I don't even want to have to explain it to you,
Because you are already a bitter fact of human life,
And I can't change you.

And when you ask me to explain and I do, I do not approve of what you have to say anyway.

But I keep humbly quiet and ruminate your blessing for me, and I bet you don't suppose I do it.

You have dealt such great blows to my life. Some that I feel were utterly harsh and unnecessary. Your dealings with me have been cold, callous, and really rather unfortunate.

You make it so difficult, but I have learned to love it, to find myself with beautiful form in any situation

And I am trying not to look too long in disgust at myself before I find myself there.

I wonder why you don't seem to question the ultimate results of your assumptions like I do, but only in moments
Because I know life is open ended
I can imagine a world where that isn't so important to a person.

I find it nearly impossible to make a bad judgment, because at any turn I can see how I could be mistaken.

I have been such a fool, though always self-critical, but I am not the only one who has ruined my balance.

Let me go, already.

Sometimes I pretend I am the essence of all that's good to be,
One with this work of art we breathe
And I look down through the clouds
From the moon,
And through them watch myself struggle to find sleep.

I watch the artist struggle there,
Swatching shades behind eyelids
And turning time for me.

I watch a seed in the soil
Work its only way
To me.

I see the broken part of you,
Which is like a shattered heaven
Spilling black blood between everything
That spills into the night sky.

But I guess I was always
Somewhere between.

Sometimes I pretend I am the essence of all that's good to be,
One with this work of art we breathe
And I look down through the clouds
From the moon,
And through them watch myself struggle to find sleep.

I watch the artist struggle there,
Swatching shades behind eyelids
And turning time for me.

I watch a seed in the soil
Work its only way
To me.

I see the broken part of you,
Which is like a shattered glass
Spilling black blood between everything
That spills into the night sky.

You don't have to pretend--
But I think I was always
Somewhere between.

You make it so bad
You make it so bad
You make it so bad
Stop acting like I shouldn't be upset
Stop acting like I shouldn't be upset
Stop acting like I shouldn't be upset
It's not my fault
It's not my fault
It's not my fault
It's always like this
It's always like this
It's always like this
I don't make my own decisions
I don't make my own decisions
I don't make my own decisions
Then who does
Then who does
Then who does

this used to work--

do you ever wonder,
what is the experience of a damaged brain like?

it's very weird.
it all comes together,
but the sensation gets very strange.

you know something's off.

someone tell her she's pretty
because she doesn't think she's pretty--
a linguistic sin deep enough to cause lacerations,
so stop tearing angel skin.

but my inert heart has been far from heaven
for some happenstance kiss to take
and yours was searching for a place
to plant a garden,
well i made it hard to.

and you got red in the face
when the squash came up blighted
when the weeds conspired to strangle the hydrangeas to death
when i sold strawberries the insects
and i was inside, just scrolling on my phone

and when i told you i was quitting
you turned over the turnips
dirt was flying everywhere
you're gonna make me regret it

but you should know
all these years i fancied myself i gardener
i think i might be more
of a *******

Oh, pretending you could change,
It was lovely

And you did, you changed in all the same ways.

So I challenged you to change, it was ugly.

'Cause you never moved an inch, love
You're frozen where you stand.

This is where I punish you
For being selfish

I assure you that it's nothing personal

It's just dreaming, love
And that's the way it goes
Nobody knows,

After they know.

Nobody goes

After they go

Just go

Just

Go

tendrils swirl from me and collapse
licks of flame lap, lazy at the ether
for now, i feel defeated
doused by the dream-killing waters of eden.

no law says my body will find its cove,
only its cure
i want to dock my vessel in your shore
the fine and smooth skin of your sands
feel the ecstasy of your thin blonde hair running over my face,
hold onto your hands.

******* in my sleek and emotional way
put pure desire in you, watch my fire in you
one weekend we'll have our earthly heaven
but for now,
i am a lonely boat.

tendrils swirl from me and collapse
licks of lazy flame lap at the ether
for now, i feel defeated
doused by the dream-killing waters of eden.

no law says my body will find its cove,
only its cure
i want to dock my vessel in your shore
the fine and smooth skin of your sands
feel the ecstasy of your thin blonde hair running over my face,
hold onto your hands.

*** you in my sleek and emotional way
put pure desire in you, watch my fire in you
one weekend we'll have our earthly heaven
but for now,
i am a lonely boat.

there are days when my body feels
emptier, compared with the springtime
drained of motivation, lumbering legs
are harder to move, an unfamiliar feeling

i keep gently kicking some stuff up in my mind
remind myself i'll be happy later
if i'm more productive now
which is true, and i will be.

i used to kiss the nectar from the neck
of the one who gushed for me

until one day i had to accept,
does she still gush for me?

i worry about not being fun enough
to hang out with. i worry about my weak
memory. an awkward personality.
trying too hard. i do,
i worry about these things.

My life is a seance
My organs gathered 'round the table

Just think of the terrible things
That led up to my birth

For now
I am not swallowed up,
And I am the only reason swimming in a sea
Of lost cause.

That's just the cost of a clause.

The dancers
Oh, they dance before
And after you dance with them

They dance when you are awkward
They dance when you are depressed

They dance when you are dying
They dance on your chest

But when you're dancing with them
Wait, a hole can never dance
So I guess we manifest like that
You always had a chance

Because when I need my eyes to see
So I can surely win
The optic nerve that might be you
It dances impossibly well!

But the scene that I am looking at
It's nice, oh to be sure!
But it can't be as good as the feeling
Of dancing like you dance

The darkness...

It used to be a place that i could hide

A comfort pit.

But now it has pierced the full howl
Of the undertow of the falling world.

I feel the wash up rising above my chin
To take me under.

I tell myself if i hold steady
It will be worth it,
I will be great if i just hold composure

But that's just not true

The younger are passing me now

They know not to make the same mistakes as me

They look down at me with passivity, passing

The Weeknd is singing, cooing from my phone
You're only looking for attention...

I am smoking a cigarette bummed from my brother, it feels surprisingly
Worryingly good after a few days
Of not smoking

At that moment, thinking i have pierced the safe darkness and gone fully crazy, not stable when im sober

Deep into the wine

That the fox let out a curdling scream and it agrees horridly with my curdled soul

I fear mediocrity

I have lost the game of life

I am 23, and

It is too late.

What I held hostage, You had in Escrow

God can be a Person if you see the Universe that way,
There's nothing scientifically wrong about that;
I find it an admirable proposition.

Was it my proclivity for empathy?
Or... some "grave wrong" I'll "find out" when I die
Will I find out I was a fissure, and death is the just filler?
Is it balance or anarchy that reigns the nests and deserts?

I hold it possible that our steeper senses of justice, too
Are "rightly" worth considering. Anything is possible.
And yet, at any turn, we can be shown to be "wrong."

But they say sin is just fodder for a new flower.

I was never ready to forfeit, these "angels" are my buttress

you are the era and the time
names carved in trees of flesh
works of art as if made by an insane savant
taped around
half finished plots
all on the ground
crumpled up
and beaten down

i am a twisted failure
a breathing bleeding heaving wreck
and i've got another name
carved in my flesh

you are the era and a stubborn donor of love
i've been like lonely deserts
you plant your flowers in my toxicity,
scream.

Occupation is such a daunting task.
The ironclad God swears up and down
That he's not asking me to jump into a dragon's mouth.

Blame me, the thing with the experience
The tacit pact among the angels
To tear it down, tear it down.

You didn't write such scathing songs,
Between your teeth, it was about a girl.
She did you wrong, and did you wrong.
Can't even see her crooked steps.

Well it's the world that's crooked, not me
And I want to hear you out
In court of law,
But we are sitting in a dragon's maw,
And noticing retracted claws
Could be of use to scrape and brawl
And make our own way, rect and raw
And that's our job here, after all--
To make a stand so strong and tall!
Yet all we do is hem and haw
While manifesting every flaw,
And now I cast my eyes in awe
To see my fatal friend's been mauled
The sherpa of my love who hauled
Us both up Everest, hear my call!
You were the only thing I saw
The novel taste of ripe pawpaw
Who drop their fruit in early fall
...
So sitting in that dragon's jaw
My job would be to lay there, sprawled
Into the stomach, break and fall
But until then, I dream
And draw.

The Earth is gonna be our home
For a long time
We'll make sure of it
We love it
We don't want to be floating around
In some tin can
In outer space
We love our Earth
We love the trees
And the bears
And the fish
And the saigas
And all the beautiful sights we see from mountaintops

We are born of clear waters
And so shall we keep our minds,
Keep our government
Keep our Earth
In the palm of our hands
Because we really
Love it.

My love,
What a life we have lived thus far.

We have enjoyed the glowing water of youth,
We have felt disdain for the ways of the world and its people.

We have kissed pretty girls
And learned so much about the music of nature.

We have tasted the bitter treat of America,
And we have squandered the blessing of life in fits of rage and spite.

But all the while, we have kept close a compass and map
We have not turned away from the sweet gift that begs a song of call and return.

I was so scared I'd fall apart before I had a chance to tell you what I have been longing to say.

And now, sitting across from painful heads who do not understand me,
I turn from them.

I see that we stand a chance,
To stake a claim
To write a song
To muster a call that shakes the hearts of men
That call which has always been inside me

It gained pace in campfires with brothers
It was tried strong in the fire of coarse punishments
And now it rests within me
Looking for a means to escape into the tense, waiting air

Do not take this from me now.

Because I love you so dearly, so tenderly
And I live to protect you with this body all day and every night
And I just want bennu to shine.

I didn't know what gravity meant when I was just a child.

But a man is tasked with responsibility,
And innocence is wild.

Of course this would mean there's something I can never be:
Satisfied by my own existence.
And by moving forward at all, I create a cavity I'll never fill.

I want you to understand how the worst parts of me spring from that idea,
But who are you, you say you're not me.

They just sink in from the shadows like rows of mathematical teeth,
In concert with each victory
We will run out of buffer space.

As I bite into chzbrgr,
I know I'm innovating.

You can help me,
And I can help you cross the street.
But no one can help my blood,
And no on

The eye of horace is upon you
He sees you pick your nose in the shower

Cuz you bring your phone in the shower

Horace is a ***** man
A *****, ***** man

Who loves you right.

older boys can fade to a brown-gray if they let themselves,
soaking in the daily rays as they come along
collapsing into comfy couches

honey don't think i wouldn't if i could
i'm pressing right up against the glass in my mind
i feel like a crazy person,
just straining to fit in

and you know where we stay young,
it's the same place where we sleep
but you've got your doubts about me
until i have more money
and something to do after.

I think
I need
To work on myself

I found my way back to your bed
Where definition crumbles
A place where everything and nothing can live inside the same body.

I am a bird in a tree
Whose branches are above me,
New as anything.

I've heard translations of you exist
But they're not as good as the original
And not worthy of the same frame of reference

My religion is like a stone idol
Your soul left it behind, but I sat and stared
I watch moss grow on the edges
I watch grass grow in the old fountain
But always changing, I hate religion

I'm only leaving to find another living love
I leave feeling like a vampire looking for blood

I imagined guitars,
But couldn't play them.

I was the king of stars,
But they don't care.

I fought distribution curves and lost.

The creatures on the outside of my body
Don't always like to admit they're me.

I ***** my future self
For a candy bar.

They'll always say you could have done something different.

You shouldn't be forced to be born someone like Dahmer or ******.

If you ever were and I knew it ahead of time I guess things could get complicated, right?

Because, am I trying to do everything I can to be a good person
Or am I trying to provide a disclaimer?

Am I surrendering to God
Or am I a trickster trying to rally up support for Satan?

Do you feel bad for your enemy?
And if you do, where exactly does that get you?

(You can trust me as far as God can throw me, you know it's just the distance I flew)