1277

While we were fearing it, it came—
But came with less of fear
Because that fearing it so long
Had almost made it fair—

There is a Fitting—a Dismay—
A Fitting—a Despair
’Tis harder knowing it is Due
Than knowing it is Here.

They Trying on the Utmost
The Morning it is new
Is Terribler than wearing it
A whole existence through.

I kissed a man
but I am straight
and it felt okay
but the whole time I was thinking
"I'm hungry, I wonder if he is too"
because some things in life are
more important than
kissing.

There's plenty of fiction about zombies but
there are dead people all around us
not even realizing that
they are living a lie
absorbed in everything but
reality itself.
Theres a disease thats spreading
and its called conformity
thats airborne and you don't notice the symptoms
because it feels comfortable.
But once you go to the doctor
(who lives inside your head)
he will diagnose you with zombie disease and will give
you these instructions:
think, breathe, learn.  
Its a shame that people are afraid of going to the doctor
or cannot afford healthcare.

Man to my past, child to my future
age is an irrelevant concept
but I'll keep counting anyway
when will I ever grow up?

Clear as a window
(well, I'll wipe it till its clean)
I will speak and I will listen
but I don't know what you mean
it gets hard to pinpoint exactly


where

                                       I

am.  


so I draw a map of landmarks
that is modeled after catscans
north is south is east is west
I'm used to it by now
if you try to play Columbus
you will most likely drown
go to town! ask the people what had happened to the clown
"he got up and left one day and didn't even make a sound...
but he's around
we hear him when he speaks inside our minds
never gives straight forward statements
just communicates with rhymes"
Yes
The loyal, happy townsfolk noticed, but they never said
that something poisonous made him delirious inside his head
instead of getting help, he just played what he was dealt
three 6s and a joker laughing all the way to hell

1400

What mystery pervades a well!
That water lives so far—
A neighbor from another world
Residing in a jar

Whose limit none have ever seen,
But just his lid of glass—
Like looking every time you please
In an abyss’s face!

The grass does not appear afraid,
I often wonder he
Can stand so close and look so bold
At what is awe to me.

Related somehow they may be,
The sedge stands next the sea—
Where he is floorless
And does no timidity betray

But nature is a stranger yet;
The ones that cite her most
Have never passed her haunted house,
Nor simplified her ghost.

To pity those that know her not
Is helped by the regret
That those who know her, know her less
The nearer her they get.