im broke n homeless i dunno where to turn i am like ten tears streaming down the face of ten twofaced absentee aloof no-dogooder gods in the rain time is running out i hope im not jus character fodder for your book i err hereby reserve the rights to my genius dont steal my genius what is genius anyway why am i so tired all the time. All. Is. Not. Well.

Your speaking in your sleep
Keeps me up all night trying to
Remember that favourite song
Of mine that your ****
Voice reminds
Me
Of

Girlfriends are real
Demons at
Times  
Hell might be
Heaven  
Men may
Be right

But nothing hurts when
You love
Enough
Just be
Laughter

Lighter things
Feel like love and
Lightness
Audience
Lucky as all others who know
This
Is
Unfear
We happen
Now

I have medicine.
Am being kept alive by progress.
Little pills like droplets of pale blue
Doctor-nectar.

I have been inside women so beautiful
I nearly gave up
Ghost.
Their confidences were instruments

Of classical composers.
The creative pleasure of the
Universe manifested. Aesthetics. Pure.  
Their bodies were salty

Words longing to be
Poetry.
They did it.
Made flesh immortal.

My hands were dead upon them; my
Heart skipped beats in the name of
Glossiness.
Twig fingers upon dead silicone.

And I grew around their hearts
Like a tree around a graveyard light post;
Watered with tears and appreciated at times  
When any

Grieving heart throws itself at anything
Beautiful and
Rigid.
For something.

I know love.
It tickles and hurts.
And I know death.
They're related.

Sisters separated at birth.
I know Poetry.
She says to Death and Love:
*Do you guys have the

Other two
Thirds of
This
Medallion?

I have no room for new scars.
My heart is more glued seams than pieces of
Hope and muscle.

My smile is as pale as the back of a
Dalí painting; all canvas and
Dirt.

I have opened my arms for a hug and
Stood accused of impersonating Christ.
Meditation rendered me unsocial.

As misunderstood as Latin, yet
I yell at the walls of common reality with
The dead language of my innersoul,

Cursing and blaspheming for the attention
Of deities. Some may listen; not one needs
To reply.

All I want is to break down the wall
Between myself and any creator
Listening,

And say Thank You. The Love
Of my Life is
My life.

What I love the most about my
Life is  
It.

"Columbus was a twatface ****** whose karma now entails an aeon-long dharma of subsequent reincarnations as a monkey *** stain spurt on the hard cold floor of an unkempt city zoo deep within the bowels of Fucksville, USA. There, I said it. idgaf"

~ Einstein

I* remember the feeling of waking up for nothing
                   The empty, gray taste everything had
        How I'd stare off
Out windows
Or across streets

                              I remember walking to the river
           And the grass not bending beneath my feet
              The current wouldn't change nor stop for me
   And I imagined it would always be this.
               Having everything I had always wanted right in front of me and it not matter

            I remember being stuck in the rain and not getting wet

         Watching
             Quietly accepting what was, and simultaneously not acknowledging what it meant.
    
        It was comfortable, but now *I want control.