They said my lines were weak
So I learned not to speak
     I decided not to speak

Now the lines are stuck in my mind
Driving me insane
Stay in your lane

I'm a girl who loves to dance
Yet too afraid to give it a chance
Utterly bored with myself
Wishing to purely connect

Aching for
the courage
the tools
the words
To get out of this rut

All my ideas swirl into gray lines
That fill my mind
And fuel the emptiness
That keeps me from feeling alive
Left only with a penchant for pleasing

I just laugh it off
Then cry dry tears at night
Where did I go?
Can you see me?
I'm lost in the monotony
Can you save me?
Can I save me?

Bruhh, is she for real?

Why she come outside like that?

Wait til she walk past.

YOU wanted this life

You can have it ALL. Alone.

That was the deal. Yo.

how long must i
drag my bones
across these
lukewarm
monotonous
coals,
i wondered
as i loaded
the dryer
with white
clothes

Send me dead flowers...*

He wanted his tombstone
to exhibit just the facts, Ma'am.

No cherubs or platitudes,
meaningless dates or military service.

Only the really important stuff.

Which toenail had the fungus.
His endless dreams of falling.
His penultimate decision about
the imminent existence of God.
How he became a hermit.
Why bourbon was the best medicine.
How, after 57 years, he found a voice.
His two or three best puns.
The virtues of solitude and celibacy.
The best *** he ever had.
Who really killed the Kennedy's.
How he came to fear cassowaries.

Just the things that really mattered.
The things that actually made a life.

This might require a billboard
intsead of a tombstone.

Little enough to ask for eternity.

A Rat

By the tube where the town's sewer ends in a bay with no name
a mother rate sat enjoying the afternoon sun.
Thinking of her life, she was quite proud had eleven babies six of
they had survived to be healthy rats.
She was also quite full an embryo had floated her way, she had
much to be thankful for, and deep in her consciousness there was
a stirring perhaps there was redemption for rats.
She heard human voice people like to come here killing rats,
into the tube of filth she went and, anyway, her babies still needed
her for warmth against the unforgiving night.