we talk a lot of it
i'm afraid i'm as empathetic
as a piece of damp paper

slept together and then talked
about pokemon and programming
yeah, i wish i went back
to the way things were before
i messed it all up

but today is different
i'm not the one messing things up
on the sidelines trying to be a good friend

feeling kind of fruity
touch your skin up and down
kind of silly funny
breathing waving fanning
panting pajamas on the floor
*** and then talking about pokemon
and programming all at the same time
what a helluva time to keep the tumor
of existence lowkey

scooping blood instead of depression
out of my heart whenever i check
why im feeling so giddy

it’s real and thick, like, jiggly
tingly and tasty— i said baby i’m
not made for much but giggling
and i can make your night
haven’t spoken since i was out on bond
but you’re super cute more than i
envisioned and you’re good at makeup

makes my feelings all kinds of wiggly
days lost in green oblivion
like a prison weight lugged around
do you remember when you were
with me all skinny and brittle *****?

baby I got hours of green
to edit, mondays goes dumb hard
like kicking kittens like footballs

leg day to finish myself off
to seal my confidence into the night
i hate days like these, rocky roads

and nowhere to hide from the sun
and the ugly, being assimilated into
the lifeless machine in a lifestyle-less queue

today is a good day
here's to hoping i don't mess it up
two years from now
this poem is really random
toaster

txt below

got a lovely tatty on ya left leggy
got no motivation or inspiration
but that *** needs lotsa smackin'
or maybe mine does, red from your hands

bittercress amongst the flowers outdoors
warding dancing birdflit
of people friendly pudgy pigeons
man i hate the birds, the people

singing their arias, their liturgy
feeling like they know somebody
in the canon, me in the sheets listening
to their rumors, trying to break our secret

Love's ideas, two becoming one
two halves of a whole
what if one's not in it all the way
not like the love of olden days but transient

latched on like a love dart
an antibody flooding in an antigen
placing its little locks with its little keys
closer than two genders - a swell

August 2017 brings the apartment together
but hubris and October 2018 tears it down
if there's one hole in the puzzle
it will tear us down with its incompleteness

don't love me like a girl; don't call me one
when that ghost sits at our banquet
rips the swell apart leaving
nothing but blood and dregs of love's dark wine

all over the floor

got a condo in manhattan
but it's empty unless i want to be
cold in the winter
and alone; comfortable

used to call an old flame up around that
area and just vibe
no words, pure concentration on
the movements of our energies

and how they connect to the stars
above or maybe we were just high
out of our minds and being warm
next to each other watching the rain

was something we both could take
home with nostalgic feelings
silence so comforting and numbing

on the state border in your wagon
thinking too much about
the future even though we’re just pretend
and this is the last time i’ll see you

illuminating my inability
to tell my own character
and trying to empathize with
your own despite us

being just pretend and our organs
are more than cotton, fabricated
hearts and both using each other
even though we’re unimportant and fake

stop that.
curtailing the rewards of love
around the softness forming on her face
upon the news, you've broken up
and there's not a chance
of feeling any contrition
because you're all about yourself
most of the time, anyways.

She, wrapped in light and acceptance.
you, in the dark, smelling of bark and river
overnight.

thinking of Her again
stop that.

txt below

(what the hell is an incel)

the media portrays one loser outcast
as every man, as if man is one
big-*** monolithic hivemind
spewing their loser germs everywhere

think we got too much time on our hands
at the checkpoint, selfies on various
landmark celebrating the evil dead
as the hero for the living, graffiti

I look good in leather, also I look
lovely in the blood of my enemies
the hate a multifaceted gem
in the cavern of my  predatory eyes

Would love you to join me in the unit
the machine’s got to roll until Friday
and then we can hatch our evil scheme
man I think I have too much time
on my hands

nightgown floors
episodic
pulses in knots
spread your pink punk drama
like the blossoms on the streets
china town
red lights
i bite off more than i can take

started wearing surgical face masks
in public to hide zits
i dig the tiny apartments and the drift
of tokyo skylines
i dig the anonymity, paper thin walls
you can hear a neighbor
playing his guitar
sometimes i wish i could fly back
and live there forever
quit living with an abusive boyfriend

if i had a second chance
i’d move more devoutly
there’s dead chickens in my
neighbor’s pen, this state wanted
more power to the trains that
own men, more fuels
to start our own hell
i chatter too much smack
no time to improve
brain’s on the loose
if i look away for a second
another recusant friend’s gone
everytime i think of that purity ring
i just crack up
why are there nothing but young women
and old men in this small church

tell me how to break an addiction
when nothing’s solid green
even though the land is flat
the water’s laced and they know i know
and i’ll do anything for more bands

out the trap into a brand new audi
says A class stuff like
i like my men and my drugs white
but don’t project on me

even if she still was in there
she’d still be owning it
devotion is a sin, she’s hunting but she’s
not hungry

river in the joyful times
river in the elegiac
you give and take away
in your eloquent tongue

wagon, sunlight, lawn chair
subtle victories that make me smile
breathe and melt inside arms
that hold tight to the lapidary

memories that stud themselves
in my brain and the photos
not being old enough to go to the festival
interrupted, the soft fall into the river

kooky, kooky llamas and duckies
frank ocean and kanye westy
in your car, rain pouring on our gucci
escape into your house, but feeling weird

like we're gonna do something
wrings the self and our hair of water
like our mangled garments
you play destiny 2 and i read poetry

not one hundred emoji on that chief
what we're supposed to be or do today
on our day off, write about nothing
and realize that's how it's supposed to be

and so the Brockhampton song plays
wound goes deep, stick a finger in it
scoop out blood to make room for you

it's filling the floorboards with red
drill a hole out with bullets to drain it
you know you should be my boy

and not go to school no more
sweat and indifference slickening
your delicate forehead, softly scratching scars

with my nails in each of your dimples
you know you should be my boy
oh yes you do, it's love, it's simple

but no friends and no invitations
from weaker, lesser duelists
three thousand on a mtg deck
like the true king of dueling

i watch the nerdom go down
you lost to somebody
who spent twenty dollars on his deck
and i laugh anyways like it means a thing

to be honest -
lots of penises
lots of them
worked out sort of

stepped on a jellyfish
stabbed myself on a broken mirror
by accident
ate a lot of donuts

pet a dog
hung out with cats
hung out with good people
a few of them
hung out with bad people
lots of them

ran away from a boyfriend
complained about nothing
got a lappytoppy finally
complained about trump

cut my hair and its still annoying
me with its definition
fell in love with a girl
then immediately regretted it

that sort of stuff

my life is hella fun right now
you like to sing in the shower
while i try to cook food in the kitchen
mornings are great, leftovers are greater
and you want some, you always want
some in the morning
and i feel the breeze for the first time

people say i'm weird but hey
i'm from ohio
and everyone is weird here
go outside and forget to wear some pants
but i rock plaid got two more
weeks til i’m off probation
been writing too long and now i’m
saying just don’t mess things up

when there's dark

funny how it's always
been about you

the wind's through the larynx
of a world raging without us
the song's making us weep

the stage too hard to cast our swag on
fingers to shaky to turn the page

i've been kicking it with a friend
the undertone of sinister elegance
of age - the vanishing of what used to be

together
me, me, me
and it’s all me
all the way to the end.

txt below

that guy’s got a different ride
all the time
says he’s an heir to an oil
magnate yo
bet his ex girlfriend’s kicking
herself ‘cuz
the checks larger than three
or five year’s
worth of salaries, crazy crazy
baby got
regrets but she says she’s not a
gold digger

^^

I like the attention you give me
even when I don’t deserve it
because you are my master
and I write all these words to annoy you
for you to scold and give me
what I want

Heart rushing, feeling sugary
it's a little overwhelming
to feel this way

foolish, even, on my 24th birthday
to get this far on my two feet
without you

bad boy, i got a weakness
i like the taste of blood licked from my
own hands from being reckless
tearing hearts out their intended
cavities and im afraid my mouth
is cold from being exposed

i guess i keep the charade
of getting mad at you
for not buying me cigarettes
or not telling me to quit them depending
if im interested in you

i go to the gym to heal
all of my mistakes instead of church
and its cuffing season
want you to tie me to your mast

and leave me there all season
then afterwards we'll never text each
other again because you're a bad boy
and you are no good for me