Little Billy's best friend was a tree.
One day his parents had it chopped,
and the pieces were shopped.
So little Billy put rat poison in their tea.

The old who,
In their youth were
Pride and beauty
In fateful combination-

Now stare in silent
Contemplation at the
Embers of a life unlived
And wonder how the
Years flowed making
Furrows of their skin

There are two kinds of people
"Us" and "Everyone else."
Though the notion of Us is fluid
To some, it's all about wealth
Others think it is color
Or nationality
But mostly, when we say "Us,"
We mean "People who think just like me."

when did everything
get so serious?

seems like half a breath ago
we played and smoked
we talked and fought
untouchable.

but the expositions over,
now the conflict begins
as we're heading up
our arc of suspense.

as our self worth starts dropping
through constant comparison
of our backstage
with their performance,

we start getting beaten
and we start thinking that
we deserve to get beaten.

as our cheating and lying
turns from harmful mistakes
to just another part in a
cyclic self destructive
downward spiral,

we begin making the
unthinkably miserable
happen impossibly frequently.

so witness live:
the loss of another generation
to self violence
mental health
and despair.

now when I think of love I want to puke,
the thought literally makes me sick to my stomach because I know now what it does to a person

how you lose yourself in someone else and then all of sudden you can't breathe anymore without them

I am promising myself to never be that stretched again,
to give myself a try for once, relying only on my intuition and will to power through life and relationships, never getting too blind to see things as they really are

I wanna know what it's like to be so good alone that the earth shatters when I take a step,
electricity radiates from my skin and my soul is so loud it shouts through my eyes