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Have you considered being a *** worker?
You have a body.
I know you never sleep there,
spend less time breathing than associating with your own ribcage.
You're an actress
no script, just a character summary.

Limp, age 12, non-verbal marionette.
Snaps her strings when forced to dance.
Clings to the ceiling tiles, like the shadows she hallucinates.
Let's the puppet fall numb under strangers.
Ragdoll to be used for kindling.


When you play your part
You'll inherit enough money to afford a studio apartment
in Washington, or Las Vegas; anywhere with men paid large enough salary to afford your vacant body,
three phone plans,
a hotel room for you to stay awake in
Listening to dull thuds against your wrongfully warm corpse
Invited hoping the stinging could form tendons
adhere together like rubber bands
Snap you back into your skin.
You cling helpless to the ceiling tiles
Watch the ragdoll make mistakes.

"Have you considered being a *** worker?"
A homeless woman asked me,
*"Unoccupied bodies should start charging rent.
Let a man who can afford it pay for utilities.
You might be homeless
but you won't be wasted space".
 Oct 2016 A hydrated plant
Mims
you with all you're ****?
i'm getting bored
november 25, 2015. the by this time i was over it
 Oct 2016 A hydrated plant
AK93
You're just as guilty as I am of not speaking your mind, and just because I don't speak doesn't mean I have anything to hide. You can see the truth with all the needed proof when you look into my eyes.
softening the distant rumble of
streaking red and white lights
behind muted headphones.
he escapes to a place all to himself.

free to cross over empty streets, and
pedal backwards, endlessly, to regretted decisions.
free to release blistered handlebars, and
relive the memories written on eye lids,
without consequences.

as he leans into smooth asphalt curves
and disappears into familiar
darkness. leaving it all
behind balding tires.
I drink my coffee black.
I hate it.
But thats how you drink it.
Always reminds me of that time in the coffee shop,
too nervous to ask for cream or sugar,
so I drank it anyways,
your presence made it tolerable.
Now that black coffee is all I have left,
and my days are spent with your eyes peering out of my cup.
The boy fell down the stairs
and on to his head,
to soon find out
that he'd never be "normal" again.
Stay true, for you are beautiful, colors blooming from inside of you.
First, fill up with water the empty cup.
Love yourself and take a little bit more nap.

Get some coffee and a bit of sugar too.
Reach out to friends and family whom you have unknowingly told to "shoo!"

Mix some creamer if you like.
Maybe a little milk will make the bitter coffee hide.
Take a stranger or a friend a bit serously.
Who know's their intentions might vary differently.

Serve while hot and enjoy.
Take time and realize that Love is not a toy.
Coffee is for us to enjoy.
I could meet a dozen girls in a night,
But I couldn't connect with a one
Where I once had deep desire,
I now have chaos
A complete inability to put forth effort
Without the help of drugs
A fairy tale desire to **** them all,
But no internal life to manifest it
I may be the coolest dude in the bar,
But you might as well ignore me
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