One, two
Ben is coming for you.
Three, four
run for the door.
Five, six
This is what happens when you call someone who is mentally unstable a ****** and a freak enough times and nobody does anything about it.

I get off how I get off.
Who cares?

Obviously my wife, since she was so ASHAMED
at finding me suffocated by by own belt on the bedpost with my **** in my hand
that way.

If  had a nickel for every kid in this neighborhood who got shot on accident

I'd have a pile of dead kids.

It does not make my death less tragic
although it does add me to a pile of bodies
whose faces are all starting to look the same.

I'm the worst at flying.
Sure am good at screaming, though.

I know, I know.
"She doesn't sound crazy."
but believe me
the crazy person
when I say

we never do.

I know you are an explosion of chemicals,
heart races,
marvels,
sweat, spit, teeth, lips.

You are momentary

but so am I.

I tried to stop you
like a baby deer tries to stop a freight train
so

I am grinning blood and guts at 70 miles per hour.

But it happened so fast

I still think I'm all here.

I granted you the ability to know me better
so I could look into you like you were a mirror

We always want people to tell us the truth
unless it's about us.

I declared from a soap box in my room under covers
that I would start holding people accountable for their actions

but the mumbled clause was only if they'll still love me afterwards.

"Get some new friends"
And I didn't listen.

So now I'm stuck inside of this old love
burning alive
because I didn't jump.