Crying ******* the side of the road,
a broken girl and nothing more.
A tainted soul, unguided *****.
A broken girl and nothing more.

Homeless man begging for some change,
a homeless making minimum wage.
****** his life and threw it all away,
for a ***** white in some nice lingerie.


Tattooed man behind cold steel bars,
thought he'd get away with stealing cars.
Looks like he didn't get too far,
another ****** ******* up our tax dollar!

Drugged up man on the beaches of L.A.,
took his life and threw it all away,
for used needles and a little *******,
thought addiction was a game he could win, what a shame.

**** it all and throw it away,
looking for life in all the wrong places.
I will admit though, just this one time,
their life sure sounds more interesting than mine.

When the fog dissipates
and the city skyline
winks into your clever retinas,
will you be satisfied
with what you see?

When those things you had forgotten
are worming their way back
into your bones and blood vessels,
will you still glance at the intractable sun,
awestruck and catatonic,
like a moth to the moon?
Will you still find beauty in
sidewalk weeds and broken glass?

When the fog dissipates,
and humanity presents itself,
brazen and unabashed,
in a flurry of chaos and stale dreams,
will you still fall into the mass
of faces and hands and ******* and eyes?

Or will you falter at the glaring sight
of a society that's run amuck?

i guess i need more mentally disturbed
friends.
i’m feeling lately like the scab that’s been picked off,
forgotten, dried up, designating.
people don’t understand when i say my heart feels like it will
explode out of my lungs, throughmythroat and get caught between
myteeth.
my anxieties need a **** buddy, because making eye contact
is even too
much. and i wish i could stop assuming the worst.
"jesus, you worry too much"
i can’t help that i find the flaws, the nit picky things,
the traits that i want to squish like
blueberries.
i can’t help that when i sit alone in my car,
i think too often of swerving into highways and wondering what a deer
sees before it
dies.
that’s why i don’t talk about this, i never can anyway,
they swell and sit upon my tongue like when you ate that pepper whole
and all i tasted was flames.  
my anxieties and i are the kind of friends where we speak nicely
and are all smiles in front of one another,
but as soon as we turn around,
all we say is venom.

remember when all we had was each other?
i wake up with the same joints creaking, but this time
thunderstorms applaud through my
spine.
my lips haven’t kissed yours enough, and i’m so parched, parched
parched.
poker face, but you have flipped through my every chapter,
every volume, swallowed the covers.
remember when all we had each other?
i’m terrified

that there’s so much more than
you.

I walked a lonely path once,
through mountains and valleys,
through deserts and woods,
till I stumbled upon a crooked cabin.

You sat on the front porch,
silent.
Yet you're smiled screamed,
"come in."

And so I did.

The floor was shaky,
and creaked with every step I took.
You offered me a bed,
my own little nook.

I smiled and accepted,
and quietly, I rested.

When I woke in the morning,
I found your on the porch yet again.
You smiled and stared at me and I stared back,
then you asked if I'd be you're friend.

We spent years in the crooked cabin,
painting walls like waterfalls.
Trickling down to the ground.
We planted flowers,
and trees,
and watched the bees,
as they thanked us the flowers,
with golden honey.

I could never leave,
I was at peace,
until one morning,
I opened my eyes...