Wasting my parent's money I skip algebra to lay in the grass and watch ants crawl up my arms
I can't summon the strength to face numbers and figures and x equals agony and y equals misery
And when you divide them you get a quotient sense of absolute isolation from the swarming intellectual hive of the world
I watch the clouds and ask them why living is worth all this hassle
All this nodding and smiling along never really comprehending
I ask them as if they hold all of the answers inside like they hold the rain
They tease me and slide out of view right as I grasp their responding formation
The reasons to keep going are always changing and at times drift away completely
Over the horizon leaving me
Nothing
But
Blue.

Life gives my stomach knots
Dread conquers my thoughts
I am weak, for I can take it no longer
As life goes on, it gets wronger and wronger

I look to the pills; I look to the bottle
They are kind and act as my throttle
Uppers and downers
My friendly encounters

People: my enemies
Hates and jealousies
They are all better than I could ever be
They have more than I could ever see

So what will I take today?
What will make these thoughts go away?
But they'll be back, just  like a pest
What I need is eternal rest

I do not believe in love,
    Nor in starry messengers;
and I do not believe I will ever
    be in love,
because love is for the old.

And truly, I admit, I am
      old.

Old fashioned, world weary--
The young want the moon, and the stars,
   And for love to be writ in the sky--

And though I know I am
  deserving of love,
I know I am too ****** to
    love
     the way
      the young do.

Her eyes look greenest when they are
    looking down from above me
in a sultry, cow-girl style;
Yet her mind seems weakest
  during the night-time.

Her hair is longest when
   it is twined between my fingers,
her body against mine;
And her hands seems gentlest
  when they are tap-tap-tapping against
the window--
  waiting for the car that will never come.

Her body is the most graceful when
dancing
softly, as if afraid to be caught;
   all contour lines in a dress of cotton;
and her heart is most fragile
    while held in my hands
       my fingers, a loosely fitted cage.