lately i've been wondering how I'd look in court room,
fitted suits and clipped banter as i juggle right and wrong
another case another day another life flushed down the drain.

he was a desperate and lonely plea in the dark, she a nervous laugh and waning spark
together they scared one another off but contrast bade them compliments
and one without the other leaves a bad taste in my mouth

I'm holding out for better days,
but while I'm here,
while I wait,
I'd really love a drink.
Or some dust to take me through the clouds.

I'm nothing more than everything
you ever wished that I  could be
I'm nothing less than a hoarse scream
that echoes through your empty dream.

a body of wicker overflowing with gravy and cranberries as my glass heart pumps wine through my swollen tired veins,
i'm happy drunk and stupid, thankful for this one day in which my usual excessive indulgence is accepted.

Give me a dream in ****** white I'll give you a love that's pure and tight.
Hold my hand and treat me nice and I'll try not to turn to my typical ice.

Peace in existential dread
is the support that lifts my head
high above yours and
the peasants that
live beyond my room
and my solitude.

I, a puddle on the floor
lying lowly evermore,
while solid structures
rise above and worry
little about flood.

Hey so don't mind me
I'm just gonna walk over here
further away
just keep talking.
I'm listening.
You do your thing,
I'm just tired,
Just going for a little walk
away from here.
Don't worry,
I'm fine.

I am just going outside and
might be some time.

My mind is filled with a dull fog
lightly dusting thoughts and memories
allowing access only by feel,
stumbling as though through a dark room
and so when I write through the fog
the underlying residents of my mind
voice their thoughts and concerns
and its funny because I don't even hear
what they're saying until its down
on the screen.

I am too many different people for you to ever comprehend
each turn I take, each time I wake, a different voice is in my head.
I think I'm  here, beneath it all, but I can't really tell.
I am an unreliable narrator even to myself.

You're undeniable, deplorable and ultimately a hoax
that speaks to me on that superficial level that's sunk below

Dark languid creatures in dark lavish rooms, Lost listless voices pulsing as one, with no past, no future, Gliding above the ground, blood thrumming As one, the crowds, the masses, voluntarily deaf and dumb.

I don't know what I'm saying
drunk and covered in fur
I'm lulled and stupefied.

I hate mornings
I want to sleep but I want to stay awake
I don't want to miss anything
and in the process I've come to learn
that in the short future my current pain
won't matter, in a manner of hours I'll
be on a different plane of existence and
won't even feel the lethargic movement
of painful mornings and unending
evenings.

You're star studded and glowing bright
I'm sinking dark and holding tight
you have no cares and float in bliss
I can't sigh without a hiss.

God, its a world of decadence
where grace and prowess hold power

Its a world of recompense
where apology is gold
and your brooding is lost on most.

Its a world where the moment is everything
jumping from towers forever,
never remembering the landing,
living for the fall.

its a coughing death
one of subtlety and only
passive irritation.
its a chosen death,
but slow, for the faint of heart
afraid to take the swift and sure route.
i know they **** me
but its exactly what
i want.

I'm only skin deep
and separate from myself
burrowing in this flesh
for a short time
and i feel bad for how
much i hate this body
that i'm in and i
often wonder if i cut through
the layers deep enough
would we separate.

i appreciate your service
and willingness to host
my sickening consciousness
but i'm really not deserving
nor do i really want this
so to whomever i stole
my body from just know
that i know that
i'm ungrateful.

I need help but I don't want it
and I can't breach that barrier
because I love myself
and hate myself
and love hating me.

The words in my head form perfect thoughts
but as soon as they hit the air, all sense is gone.

I'll be doing just fine, tripping along,
until its jeweled tone catches my attention
my veins thrum and my wrists swell
and I can't help but remember how
fun it is to watch that thread unravel.

a righteous contradiction
I'll hold your interest long
enough to captivate your soul.

I'm tripping ******* the seam between the sidewalks
listless and breathless I'm falling back and forth,
holding out for a helping hand,
waiting for my knight.

My home is in the dark
the light will not abide
my home is stark and white
the world is standing by

I've been in bed for over 24 hours
looking at everyone I grew up with
and wondering if I'm sad.

leaves like tiny people dance beside the curb
and I just stare, wishing my enthusiasm matched theirs,
these cold castaways have more life than I.

I think.. I think I dreamt about you.
Or maybe its a memory...
just a remnant of your face
your silhouette before me
its dark and cool but temperate
and shadows dance upon your face
while my head plays that familiar
song repeatedly.

i rose in structure, guided and conroled
carefully tendered and formatted to be
organized and on track
but as soon
as i left my home
i lost all that, though it barely ever took hold.
I just drank an entire *** of coffee and am now heading to bed
my floor is made of clothes and my shelves are made of books
and the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling are for the little girl
who wasn't allowed to tarnish her perfectly painted room
and i think being raised in such control has lead to an
excessive chaotic behaviour.