Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And the people in the houses
All went to the university,
Where they were put in boxes
And they came out all the same,
And there's doctors and lawyers,
And business executives,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

And they all play on the golf course
And drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children
And the children go to school,
And the children go to summer camp
And then to the university,
Where they are put in boxes
And they come out all the same.

And the boys go into business
And marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.
There's a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they're all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

A fool is he that shares his bed with the fear in his head,
My choices weigh my down, like cement shoes they pull me under the ever rising tide of self-loathing that constantly threatens to drown me.
Why do I feel such hatred for those eyes in the mirror, I can only stare for so long lest the urge to put my head through the reflective pane become too much.
It is a fire.
It burns within me, this anger, this disgust.
The shadows sing quietly so as no one else can hear.
Whisper abuse, taunting,
I am weak, hopeless and predictable,
As always, I rise to the bait.
Shackled, bound, as much a prisoner as any convict rotting behind bars,
I waste away within my mind.
I'll lash out at you!
I will...
Can't stop till I've had my fill,
I starve for blood and my own will do,
I hate that I want to hate you,
I hate that I fall short of the mark,
I hate and I hate and I hate,
Until I'm completely lost in the dark...

I'll **** your demons,
Knowing you can't **** mine,
And when asked if I'm okay,
I'll respond with "I'm fine",
I'm not your burden,
Though I may be your friend,
Put the pressure on and I'll break before I bend.

At time's,
I'm a miserable, lecherous, lump.
At my worst,
I'm a despicable ******* drunk.
And I'm sorry darling,
you just got caught under my little rain cloud,
I'll take the added weight of your accumulated pain now.
To say it simply,
I'm something like walking bad karma
More advanced,
I was delivered an infinitely twisted dharma.
And I regret,
allowing your pleasant essence to combine with mine,
but now that we've been severed I think you'll carry on just fine.

Cool grass between my toes
Smiling at the sun
My shirt hose-drenched
And my mouth sticky melon
My hands hang open
Reading stories of the wind
I cannot see my eyes
But through them
I know they contain the world
Joystruck and wonderfilled
Careless with good reason
There is safety in their porch talk
And danger to be found
I am reaching for the spirit
With faith untethered
Breathing and I love it
Grabbing hold of the tactile earth

Sometimes,
all you need is strong drink,
and a couple good friends,
to part the clouds.
All that drunken truth,
spilled so sloppily,
it can lighten the heart.
Lift the weight from shoulders,
even release a little guilt.
Yea,
life's mostly misery perpetuated,
but little moments like this,
make it worth the while.

How long ago
Did you list your priorities?

The small ones,
Like me.
Forgotten at the bottom of the list.

I do understand.
I am only a reflection,
Without purpose,
******* the attention of those around me,
The ones that worry about
Insignificant things.

And stop lying.

You have let go of me,
You haven't let go of the words
Or past.

But of course you let go,
You could barely hold on to
Your own sanity.

I can only hold myself accountable to the crushing feeling I have now.

I find no comfort in my bed
Where ther once was peace
Now lies dread.