Checking on old friends
in a new year-
means getting met
by a Memorial Page

Remembering you
Getting blazed listening to Cudi
While we turnt up and laughed as our friends ****** in the next room;

In the pursuit of happiness, you were gone and forgotten too soon
Until social media flashes memories
Between things it tries to sell me
And this legacy-
It’s that time of the year I’d be at ISU
getting high with the Man on the Moon

Living with a too late afterthought -
I should have been there for you
Life gets in the way
What can I say
I’m always on my own *******
I’m sorry if I ever let you down
I just wish I didn’t find out you were dead through Facebook;

It’s a new year of isolation
Check on your ******* friends;

My heart is an abandoned mosh pit;
I miss you beating the **** out of me in cadence-
some sonic *******
thrashing through the motions
moaning the music through my body electric
with liberation lashes enlighting me up.
I miss leaving mused and abused
dripping of our sweat-
Left writhing and pulsating in an echo chamber screaming my lungs out pretending to sing along with you-
working every ounce of energy out of me until you’re fulfilled
and I feel less vacant;

We live in an era of sociopath glamorization,
virtually devoid of empaths.

Welcome to the Evil Empire-
but first,
let me take a selfie;

Virtual pandemonium
In the terrordome
Of social anxiety-attacks
Of one truth shared more than the other
Smashing reacts to your
emotions of the moment
For the illusion of your audience
Written all over your face
Wrapped like a mask
Of a faux influencer
Speaking of change-
fashioned but never took action.
Now history is a broken record
Looping a distress call thru
The ether.
All the worlds enraged
And you’re just a crisis actor

If all the world’s a stage
then anxiety is a crisis actor

The trickster archetype
typecasting all my critical thoughts as truths

Into a monster of the weak
rogue gallery
of self-destructive episodes

Maybe it’s the lack of SSRI’s
but SI be like:

Since they slashed and burned
half the forest preserve
maybe you should slit your wrists
and self-immolate in the center of it;

Maybe you should spill
your guts like seppuku
at the center of Daley Plaza
underneath The Picasso
outside that Shepard Fairey exhibit
(Provocateurs; Block 37)
Call it an art instillation

If all else fails, I’ll just throw myself in front of a Tesla on the North Shore

Every kiss begins with chaos
Before we collide
Our unquiet minds
On to the mattress

We made this bed
To bash our brains
of imagination

Where you steady me
slit my veins
and feed on the electricity

Are you turned on?

Tune in,
and drop out.
This is a high
without the drugs

Darlin'
be a little more reckless
Wrack your mind
and embrace the transgressions

Whisper to me,
let your soul start *******

sweet static nothingness

Licked from the goddess apocalypse
to the tips of our
touch
****
and release

It's such a ******* relief.

Reorganized minds
mend the missing peace
between the reverberations
of our heartbeats
beating the path
down the rabbit hole

Don't you want to come with me?

Chained and collared
By Mara’s daughters

No safe word Baby,
bound by
desire,
fulfillment,
regret

They put their
hands
on me

and they drew blood
In the symbol of currency

Then they sold my soul
Into *** slavery;

No one blinded the cyclops
Now we’re walking wounded
Fueled by hubris
We’re headed toward the rocks.

Caught up in some bad religion
We’re only gonna die
For this
Our own arrogance
And we’re running out of time

Some men wanna
watch the world burn
Some die before they rise the fire
History repeats
We don’t learn
Burn the forest into a funeral pyre