i don't care
if you don't care
i don't mind
if you don't mind
i don't see
what's wrong
with what i might find...
if i don't find you.

where are you?
are you hiding?
are you playing with fire?
with the flower beds?
with all your friends?
are you playing dead
somewhere? should i
even say a prayer?

i don't care,
if you don't care.
where are you?


somewhere
out there.

you have to walk down the hallway
like it's an abandoned runway

(only if you want to feel better about yourself)

smile at people who
don't want to be smiled at

you have keep it together
make the bed and kiss him goodbye

you will say you're sorry even if you're not
say you mean it even if you don't

you'll pick up the clothes from the floor
put them in the washing machine
dry them fold them and stuff them
down your throat

sticky and sweet
synthetic acai
slips off my tongue.
driving home in
oblivion,
but always ready for bed.
thank you for being my
favorite friend.

when i feel like
blood is coming
out of my ears and
the fire wont stop
inside my head
i like to think of
a place i used to go to.

flowers bloom even though
they might be called weeds
i still like to think that they
are beautiful and maybe that
i am just like one of them.

just a ****.

i am happy
i think i'm in love.

i eat cheetos
he'll say i'm a slob.
i should just *******.

i am sleepy and
i'm inconsolable
i like nothing.



you're uncontrollable.

burnt skins smells like
ashes from the chimney
during winter and the
toaster oven sighs.
so do i. my bagel is crisp,
maybe even posionious,
but i eat it anyway. like i always
do. second degree burns never
kept me from the next day.
callouses and bruises thread up
the calves of your legs. you pretend
it's not there but i know. my boyfriend
likes to come home past ten. but i know
he is always late, always exaggerating
the circumstances we like to live within,
and somehow we can never pierce it,
like artificial skin.

peach fuzz,
moss fuzz,
what is the
difference?
frosted flakes,
my back aches,
i feel like a broken
fence. tight muscles,
white knuckles,
i smell a cigarette.

when the ocean reaches
the sky, we're dreaming
of a different life. when
no one wants to die,
we're innocent and alive.
stop for a second,
breath it all in.
all we are is flesh and blood.

how long does it take to drown?
tumultuous and predictable
does it hurt?
i don’t know where she begins and ends.
you’re good with kids,
but i think you’re being impulsive.
you should think about staying here.
think about the beauty,
amex black cards,
and impeding lateness.
you would think about
becoming something else.
i bet you’re going to be homeless,
or a dream that never existed,
just like a sick scam,
and then die.

which then,
means your little darling
will dissolve.

in the night i think i
am alive i think i am
swinging and swigging
from bottles and living
my life like it doesn't exist.

in the night i think i
am swimming in the
darkness. flinging on
a sad abysses. i think
i need to stop for a minute.

i just want to say
i have nothing to
say. i just want to
know how far it
takes to let my world
go. i want to be it
for you. in the night

i think i could be the right
one.

i'm going to be
the next best thing
since sliced bread.

i'm going to be
the best thing
that'd ever entered
your self centered
head.

i will think about
what you think
about.

i will be what you
think about.

when the air stops
being breathable,
i will be what you
crave,
senseless and
unachievable.

wrapped in satin,
under a thousand rocks,
under a million rocks,
under a black, silky,
unkept bed. he sits awaiting
a resilient retriever,
discounting all of the
grievances that could ever
fill up the coal colored
sky.
graciously, she descends
from the moss ridden
earth, an organic type
of rescue only to recieve
a murky tinged breed of man.

roots stick out
of the ground,
like i don't
stick out in
a crowd.

dogs are picking
up sticks,
i watch them
do their tricks
they get a good treat,
i'm alone at the park.

now i'm listening to
forensic files
in my basement.
i'm talking to walls
but they never listen.
sometimes
nothing ever makes
sense.
maybe i'm just a stick.

i am made of venom and sea foam and false hope -

i am a series of "connect the dots" that never really seemed to make the full picture........

i am momentarily momentous -
a monster of my craft.

i am what happens
when you take the lid off of a shaken up
bottle of coke, or some other similar generic soft drink.

i am unescapable, and
i am going to be a big deal from now on.

i am not sorry.

i am everywhere, gliding into senses, talking the way i want to, barely living, but
i am living.
i am freaking out in my very own stupid gutter.

i am never going to be the same.

i am everywhere,
everything,
and nowhere.

i started driving with my
left leg perched up on the driver's seat
again. sometimes i will sing if i feel like
it and if not, i still think about how i could crash
into anything if i really wanted, if i actually
cared to, but why bother if the song is good enough?

most of the time, the song is fine.

i'm vaguely in tune with how
my dominate foot controls the machine
now. and how i am really in control now. and how
i will no longer be the passenger in the seat,
and i will no longer allow myself to live at the
mercy of someone else’s demands now.
i think i feel okay now.

and most of the time,
the song is fine.

sitting on s cameron waiting for the
light to turn,
waking up for the morning commute
just like that indie electronica group
said i would. thinking about the various
ways i’ll allow myself get taken
advantage of today.
the city smells like ****
and desperation. to be honest,
i think i fit right in.

i do a little dance
with guilt
during the day,
and then i
let anger **** me at night.