I don't know if I want to make love with a boy who shoots birds for fun.
You live on an animal rescue farm, but you shoot birds for fun.

You told me that you're simply a contradiction.
I told you,
Simply and contradiction is a contradiction on its own,
So you're a liar.
I fled,
And you said,
"Off with her head!"
And while my head rolled,
God has been told,
You were singing with your angel choir.

Murmuring lyrics to songs i can't sing,
Disengaging asI search for a reason.
A new way to breathe,
And a plea for insanity.
I scale the road for a fork,
But all I see is a one way street.
I know now,
That I was always looking for a way to get out.
Head hung low,
Pacing,
And muttering questions I don't know the answers to.
Collapsing on brick,
And
Shivering in spring.
Spring.
That was the season it all happened in 2013.
Spring.
That was the season it all happened in 2001.
Spring.
This is the season I come undone.
Poetry writing while chortling,
As I excuse myself for my mentality.
Ha!
I was never as happy as I thought I was
And neither is anybody else.

I think that you lied.
I think I clearly cut out the glass for you,
The glass you so sloppily blew.
I think you told me that,
It's intricate contours were the works of your carving knife,
But I knew better,
I could see through your exo-skeleton.
I could see into your soul.
I could see that you're not who you look like.
I could see you're far from beautiful.
You pulled me into the closet,
You told me that you're simply a contradiction.
I told you,
Simply and contradiction is a contradiction on its own,
So you're a liar.
I fled,
And you said,
"Off with her head!"
And while my head rolled,
God has been told,
You were singing with your angel choir.

I called you today.
I called and confessed to you,
I am the vampire you thought you saw the other day.
I've been holed up in my room,
Trying to tell myself it's not true.
I am not the parasitic, paled palor monster,
The one you bit and transmitted the gene,
Passed over until me.
I want to believe vampires do not have superiority complexes.
I want to believe immortality grants time for improvement.
I am scared I will bite you one day,
And I will drive you to my vampireistic tendencies,
Or I will be forced to watch you bleed.
I don't want to be a monster,
But I fear it's too late.

Pebbles in brain waves,
Brain waves in appendix.
Asphyxiation of thought and mind.
Don't you cry,
But wouldn't it be swell,
If the world could just lie down and die?

Have you ever looked for wonderland?
Have you ever nearly smashed your head through your looking-glass?
Candy-striped fairy class,
Dancing around a glitter waterfall.
Prince charming line ups,
All dark, handsome, and tall.
What would we be without our starry-eyed harlequin princesses?
Lest, tire of the transparent stares?
Do venture, never care.
We will build a castle.
A castle in the air, yes?
A castle in the clouds,
T'will be the envy of the sun.
A castle of stars,
A castle of gold,
Diamond door knobs,
Pavement of pearl.
Venture up the cosmic stairs,
Note the hint of ***.
And you open the door,
And 14 are dead!
Their suicide notes,
They are fraught with a sin!
Vanity, greed, lust, sloth..
Sinners never win,
So that's why you immediately fled!
Sinners are taught thou shalt not sin by sinners themselves!
Yes, it's not your folly, alas you've been groomed!
Trudge two steps at a time down the stairs you go,
Wait!
No,
No stairs to be found!
Molten rock and lava petticoat.
You topple down,
Clumsily ,
Gracelessly,
Down to fiery pits of Hades!
And that's where our story ends.
You see,
I nearly went mad,
Looking for my wonderland.

Emerging from the darkness,
Your face is encircled with stars of Orion.
Fog surrounding your silhouette.
Overwhelming force field separating
My aura from yours.
Walk a fine street of plated gold,
Deploring plastic cores,
and camera stores.
Flying fast,
Screaming at the past.
Back down from the galaxy.
I scream with ecstasy;
"I am Shakespearean!
I am Freudian!"
You are Napolean,
King Henry and Led Zeppelin!"
Crash, smash, crack myself open.
Electromagnetic magnetism.

Happiness,
A silly thing.
Happiness,
A trivial thing.
Does one only have to sing?
Choir and priestly men may argue yes,
But I can't help but think, maybe this is all in jest.
Does joy really come from the gospel?
Or is it all just a psychological spell?
Must we look to the savior for love?
Or should love be handed to us?
I went on a bus,
Just last Tuesday,
I was puzzled by the lack of happy faces.
Snarls, apathy, stress, boredom.
Is happiness only in God's kingdom?
The search goes onward,
It's everyone's quest.
Must we rid ourselves of our everyday pests?
Pry the day away and yet no one can tell me,
What does it take to find happiness?
I am pleased whilst lucid,
For I am incoherent and I may live from within.
Is happiness right underneath my skin?
Does this indeed imply,
That death is always the best state we will ever be in?
Does this tell me to act as I wish?
Is one really at best immune to others?
If I had my druthers,
I would paint myself pink,
And ride a fuchsia elephant,
Alas, I can't!
Society stops me in my tracks!
Is happiness perfection?
Or simply satisfaction?
Then why oh why would the world lie?
Does true happiness exist?
If it did, it wouldn't be so very sly.

I shatter my mirrors,
I shatter my mirrors.
With my mirrors, I gauge my eyes.
I cry,
We cry,
He laughs,
She cries.
Because it is the sapphire eyes and gilded silk we covet.
Because it is the deflation of our balloons and lifting of our baggage.
We desire.
Oh higher deity, go higher.
Oh higher conscious, fly higher,
Do tell me,
Why are some blessed with such commodities?
Why must we all look from a distance at such mere curiosities?
Isn't the economy so deflated already?

The facilitator said,
Go home and write a page tonight
And let that page come out of you
Then it will be true.
Well,
I live in a house
Like so many others
I have two parents,
An older brother,
And four dogs.
Fifteen going on sixteen,
I am more or less your average sophomore.
I like to read things that aren’t too long,
But just short enough to feed my head.
I like to feed my head with new things,
Because otherwise life is a meaningless circle.
I have 3 life plans
One for if I am in poverty,
One for if I am middle class,
And one for if I am rich.
This way I will never be unhappy
At least due to money.
Perpetual unhappiness and stagnation is my greatest fear.
And to run in a meaningless, monotonous circle.
I will do every thing that makes me feel alive
And helps me embrace my role in the context of the whole.
Because I have one.
And so do you,
Mrs. Sarna.
As does everyone.
It is important to note that I am an atheist.
Not even "God" can judge me.
I can barely even judge me ,
“You shall love your crooked neighbor with your crooked heart.”
And that,
Facilitator,
Is the quote I impart with you,
Because ambiguity is a vice of mine.

"I'm sorry about what you've been through."
"I'm happy you're happy now."*
As our bodies touched in your strobe light room,
I whispered,
"I wish there were more people who were nice like you."
I didn't know if I believed it,
But I meant it anyway.
You pulled me closer,
and whispered,
"I wish there were more people like you."
I didn't think you meant it,
But I liked it anyway.
We kissed forever,
On a single night,
Of our minds dancing together,
Like the lights in your strobe light room.

I think you left your chihuahua chains on my doorstep.
I think you left,
And brought your secondary school acting company to laugh,
At my hopeless attempts to paint a fence.
I think you all laughed when I drowned at the aquarium.
Did I tell you I travelled idly through the galaxy?
The stars told me your secrets,
Now you're out to pull me down to Hell,
Though I always wished you well,
All my post-cards from purgatory said so.
I think I thought these things,
But I think my mind played a ***** trick on me.
I think that trick was you.
Remember, you tried to flush my doppelganger down the loo?
Maybe I'm just mad,
Heaven does that to the best of us.
Giving you my prized potion of the wizards,
You scream in mock terror,
But still secrete pus.
Wouldn't it be swell,
If we could live could live amongst elves?

Entering the blackness,
A blind,
Blonde,
Astronaut I am.
Oh,
My hair didn't reach my brain.
Your force has a certain strain.
You are all the same.
All the same.
Humanity,
And what ever happened to originality?
My lower conscious tells me to succumb,
My pride holds up,
It beats the race,
The winning streak,
Take a peek,
And you'll see,
I'm a human,
But barely any longer.
I'm still rather somber,
You still can't see why,
And I can't try any longer,
But I still look at you
Through my prized rosey binoculars.

He romanticized me.
I'm not the one he thinks I am.
The rainstorm,
the starry eyes,
The empress of truth.
I'm not the one he thinks I am.
H2o
Fe
What's the chemical composition of love?
Love versus lust
Explosive reaction,
In the nether region.
Lust from the earths crust
A quest in the labyrinth of adulthood
Locked from the gates of innocence versus virginity
Or lack thereof.
Fall in love with love
Smother her with cynicism.
Take out your guard dogs
But you're still unprotected.

Well I was skilled in body language
And you were skilled in breaking hearts
So close in heart,
Yet so far apart.
Souls connected,
Hands touched.
Remember this moment.
Remember the feelings
Remember your lies,
Yet remember how I am perfectly fine.
We can go back to the ambivalence of the times,
The innocent liquor,
That one night where I could say you were mine.
You were my new muse,
An alternate soul.
Did I love you?
Not even close.
Did I want to lose you?
No.
In your youth you probably shan't learn who you are yet,
But I feel sorry for you.
It will hit you like the ****** falling through the mast of your ships.

Catatonic escapism
I was your catatonic *****
Catatonic escapism
You turn me on when you needed me
When you needed something to hide
When you needed someone to help you not feel anything except occasional electricity.
That's okay
I don't feel much either
Except the occasional surge of electricity when I get tired of the numbness.
When she came,
You came.
I had to leave your bed.
I didn't even stay for breakfast.

I'm the proverbial *****.
You only want me because I can pleasure us.
I'm the proverbial *****.
You might love me a little,
But you care about your land more.
Your proverbial ***** is tired of living in a camera store.
Your proverbial ***** is wanting to know if you only want her for her open door policy.
qYour proverbial ***** is a sucker for your intellect,
Your proverbial ***** falls for your charms and grace
Why are you the only one then?
Why are you the only one who can make proverbial ***** scream?
Whip proverbial ***** into shape.
She's been an awful ******.

Plastic love entwined inside the drunk texts
All of our love is metaphorical ***
And astronomy
Physiognomy and vibrations.
Vibrations and our innocence
Our ****** social innocence
It can't be what I want.
I can't be what you need.
walk through my road of different shades of red
Tread, tread, tread,
And revive me if I'm dead,
Then tell me how much you masturbated today.
I'll squeal a bitter "yay"
And pretend I know who you are.
A robot.
Taut,
Squat,
Astronaut.

Yes,
I threw your champagne glass at the wall.
Yes, the door did hit me on my way out.
I know you did it because you know my secret.
You know why I wear those turtlenecks.
You knew how I scorned humanity,
And the good name of anthropology,
Psychology, and physiognomy,
You could tell I didn't think the lake was so beautiful,
Because I was the only one who notices the algae.
The only one who noticed the pollution from the Victorian chimney,
And the only one who didn't just see you in your reflection,
But your volatile doppelgänger.

Where would we be if not uprooting traditions and values?
And the chill reverberating my bones comforts me.
It tells me I'm all that I think I am.
I deserve the shivers, I deserve your energy's frost.
I deserve all of these chilling stares.
I deserve this cardiac arrest in your cold police station.
I deserve sitting on these cold stone steps,
Pondering why the universe tends to suffocate those already asphyxiated,
And demonize those already hostage in Hell.
Merciless,
Keen,
Mean,
I will scramble up the mighty bean.

I want to surgically remove the cat in in my liver.
I want to remove the rat infestation in my cerebral line of thought.
I want to let the world know that I am not who you thought I was.
I want you to know I do not frolick in soap bubbles in springtime,
I want to tell you I don't always listen to British 80's rock bands.
I want you to know I don't always sit around and read.
Who planted this seed?
I want to tell you I am not a trollop,
Who does nothing but frolick.
I want you to know I am a contradiction.
I want to tell you that I may very well be better off alone.
I want you to know that I am a bottomless vortex,
I want you to know my endless depths make for a difficult one.
I don't want to be selfish,
But I want to be part of your reindeer games.
My selfish ways won.
You are under my spell.
*******,
Most poetry talks about how no one understands.
Thank goodness I'm a contradiction,
Otherwise we'd all get bored.
I thought you understood,
I thought we are sewn from a similar cloth.
But you are just a white sheep.
Only but a white sheep.

Steps on the barren desert valley ground,
I'd rather be in the alley.
I'd rather be in the alley with you.
Sun burnt rocks jut out at me,
They shake their fingers at me,
"You'll never get out, it's a dead end from here."
I remember sitting out under the sun,
I remember being under the sun on the roof,
And I remember screaming at the skies,
" Mathematics has taught me nothing,
School was nothing but sociological lies!"
I had my verbal reasoning skills,
I had a bottle of Adderall pills,
I had my quantum physical knowledge,
I've been down the road of metaphysics,
I even had foreign language skills.
Italian artistry doesn't help you here, no.
The coyote knows best,
The wildebeast and dachshund know better.
Animal supremacy, no.
Conscious human foreclosure of higher arcane intelligence,
If it ever yielded it's presence,
Jesus would've resurrected already.

The Mona Lisa assaults my brain,
Acrid perfume polluting my lungs.
Does the Mona Lisa not care if I die?
I see her chuckling,
Waggling her finger,
Saying with bitter ****,
"You'll never be in the Metropolitan Museum of Art."

A stint in the darkness of the alleyway called Social Hierarchy.
Taking just a stroll,
The stench of a rat,
I must ignore.
Oh, but it takes a toll on my motor skills.
It takes a toll on my motor skills.
Scored 99 on protective instincts.
1% is a grand difference.
I learned from you.
Oh, I learned from you.
Paradise shifts in my lucid innocence.
Discombobulation as I frantically search for "Heaven" again.
Don't you tear down your wrought iron gates,
The constables are coming.
Don't try to flee,
You wont escape,
The king wants off with your head.
Vision blurring,
Split ends.
Summer hazards of new friends.