fake girls
that fake friend it
I'd rather you treat me like ****
call me out on it
at least I know you're an honest *****
I'm okay with it
I've got my faults,
a lot of them
I'd rather you call me out
than keep faking it
you're making it
hard to make friends
hard to keep friends
hard to be a friend
what's next then?
forget we don't speak anymore
until we have mutual friends
then try to explain
we just lost touch
plastic beginnings
silent ends
the start and finish
of more fake friends

there's a void...
you'll listen to me
when I bring up my *****
but do you wanna know my dreams?
I could cry streams, you wouldn't believe
I'm strawberries and cream
with shards of glass in between
are you sure you want to taste me?
I'm like poison baby
that's me lately
if you step into this
your legs and brain will be shaking
I'm great at confusing the enemy
I've never been good at vulnerability
I know how to pull you in
and my reflexes spit you back out
I don't know what the **** that's about
I'm offensive
you wouldn't like my folds and creases
passive-aggressive
and fluctuating *** drive makes it all tasteless
past anxieties flooded me
when they were inside of me
I started crying
they kept thrusting
and maybe that ****** with me
maybe that wasn't okay like I said it would be
I use it now as a way of distracting
you from seeing
any part of what's real in me
parts of me your **** can't reach
mysteries ****, baby
keep searching

powerful needs powerful
not a mouthful
plant me with a kiss
make it something I'll actually miss
because I'm not looking for bliss
you can't miss that, you dream that
maybe I want something aggressive
you know, that I can handle
can you handle that?
I'm always gritting my teeth
I'm tired of playing make believe
gotta do more than dream
and try to be something
and I hate it
I can't focus my thoughts
maybe I've got it all wrong
I don't write poetry for advice
but people still drop in
and I wonder if you even get it
how anyone even could
get me
and I wonder
if this season is really gonna change me
or if it's just rearranging me
until I start cumbling back into the shell of me
like I always do
I prefer running away from people like you
and you don't wanna see me the way I need to see you
in places other than my head
in my bed
in everything backwards and ahead
in nostalgia soaked car rides
to back home where it doesn't feel like home
going back to where I'm known
for a few different reasons
maybe for being a *****
maybe for old self seasons
it wasn't me
could have been the ectasy
little dolphin pill
castaway thrill
sights that **** and pierce me with a new type of sound
that you feel in your thighbones
the feeling of your tongue going down
on me
similar to ecstasy
coming down now
I've got ideas pouring out all around
and my hands only work so fast
my reality demands my most valuable time
I could be spending trying to make a dime from this ****
creating and destroying it
the minute I set it free for you to read
this **** isn't to impress you
it's to cleanse me
and to scream
because my head is getting cramped
revamped
every day

it's not the same
the crawling across my brain
it's darker this time
more than it was before
it's slower moving now
with a much darker score
I can't find the direction
I'm a sore soul searching
running through barbed wire
I want to shed this skin and set it on fire
or just re-wire
find a way back to "start"
where the breathing isn't heavy
and there's no weight on my heart
I'm screaming through art
that not many people read
it's okay
it's not something I need
I'm not translating
I'm bleeding

had a manic week
almost peaked
jumped the gun
made a stupid run
into the ground
ignored the sounds of my morals
dug into my shins like ocean corals
I just wanted to feel free
even momentarily
instead it was paralyzing
guilt tripping and bullshitting
there's no way to get around reality
when it's the anchor around your feet
I want to discover a new side to myself
and find a way to meet her
I've never fallen to your feet before
I want to learn to stay planted on my own two
without wrapping my arms around you
to hold me up
fill my cup
that you take sips from
I'm rusting around the bottom edges
I don't know romance without fringes
I don't myself without rusty hinges
I'm a door that won't open
unless you find an alternative route
and by the time you get there
I'm burned up and turned to soot
I'm sorry I'm not around

wish I was focusing more on creative ****
because I'm always making it
then doing what with it?
I've gotta break out with it.
I wanna be known for it,
have something to show for it,
be more than it,
tell people what I think about it,
and to have people around wanting to hear about it
I want to be brave and talk about it
I could have a voice
if I dared to try and scream with it
I see the world in misecellanous dreamy hues and ****
in open highways and moments
fitting the typical 20-something millenial *****
I'm blending in with the other witchy *******
that don't know darkness...
triggered...
we're a part of the viral market...
I don't trust you if you deny it.
we're waiting to meet a mirrored fakeness, and rely on it
losing the drive in me to look for words to reply with
I'm scripted and overworked but trying
morality police are too busy lying
reality is digging into my day dreams
and it's making **** more clear
it's good to clear the smoke and imagine something bigger
but the first step is doing
taking the fear away
and flying
but I took another puff and went to sleep

I want so badly to reclaim my youth
without it being vicariously through
someone like you
but rather, a past self
or maybe just a current state...
I wish I could come clean
or just clear the slate...
I've got a bug crawling across my brain
it makes me feel like ****
the other day I took a quiz
wondering
if I had sociopathic tendancies
I think it was just a break in my sanity
and wanting to put blame on anything
because the world doesn't owe me a thing
I'm stuck in the past