my father is telling me last night he dreamt he was telling the neighbours to install a shining privacy screen. my mother is telling me she dreamt about doing her taxes. “hand over your documents” the man said. she’s telling me how it was a different man, and how he really should have already had their documents, and i’m just sitting here thinking ‘if my dreams ever get this boring, please shoot me’. i don’t want domestic fantasies. i am not my father. my father’s only son is the house we live in. i am not allowed to touch the walls. i am not my mother. i do not care if my surfaces shine or not. i am not my parents. i do not want a government job. i do not want a sterile house. i don’t like ikea furniture. i still have dreams about zombies and my friends and war the ocean and i never want that to go away.

i think i’m living the teenage dream. shooting movies with my friends? ******* around at the mall and wasting money on energy drinks? making eye contact? making **** sure of everything? talking, always talking, to someone about something they love? stealing alcohol from the pantry? taking the ****** bus? being late to everything because i care so much and not at all? breaking bottles on pavement? getting half-high on accident? texting late? making plans? thrifting? going out of state with friends and telling them i love them right before i fall asleep?

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and what is a shape
when everything’s fake
isosceles,
i can’t breathe
one thing having athsma taught me
is the shape of a ribcage
when i saw it on screen

does a lonely childhood **** a person?
maybe
if not, the way everyone else smells it on you does
there is something wrong with you
you are not whole
“where is your other half”
everyone asks you
and you just keep saying “i dunno, i dunno”
and they tell you to be grateful
because you never were hated as a kid
and maybe you weren’t but you are hated now for it
you do not know how to be a person because of it
and you can never say we were children together
because you were not children with anyone except for yourself
and you will bury your childhood alone
and you will bury your parents alone
and they keep telling you to be so so grateful that you never had to share anything
but this loneliness has you by the throat and
you would rather have someone who hated you than nobody at all

can see it now in a stuffy auditorium
half of those students don’t give a ****
it’s hotter than a crematorium
and everyone just wants to go out to lunch

i can see her now - the principal’s crying
she can hardly get the words out
nervous laughter and everyone’s trying
whatever it is, to figure it out

i can see me too, when she breaks the news
“i regret to inform you” but i already knew
grim curiosity, we’re all wondering who
and the world liquifies when she says it’s you

silence, something switches, day to night
last night you were found dead, abandoned
and i’m saying no god, it can’t be right
cause he would have called me beforehand

useless knowledge
reflective ceiling
guys who park their bikes here  
never feel anything
i wish that were me
and i wish that were on me
the bike shed stares back
he’s not looking at me