living in places with no real faces
nothing but the pavement and similar races
houses cloud the judgment and create such a facade
that no one man can see straight at what glares obviously
at how this town really is

living in places with picket fences and fake smiles
nothing but the pavement and the smell of lawns waning
houses cloud what really lies underneath all these people
that they are all broken china dolls

living in places that are pieced together by the backbone
nothing but pavement and sweat trying to impress
houses cloud opinions making them constantly redress
tired of redressing i live with a plan to strive away from this place.

i never have liked uppercase i's
i know it's absolutely stupid
but they always make me feel more important than others
like i'm always saying I, I, I.

see even that was weird
way too many eyes
so i spend half my days, proofreading my lines
to make sure that i'm exactly the same size
as everyone else

when i first met you it absolutely blew me away
to find someone else who lowers their eyes
i'm serious, it's amazing to find someone who wastes as much time as yourself
hitting backspace, and
cursing auto-correct for not allowing this behavior

but after a while i noticed you stopped with the i's
maybe it was around the time **** got weird
maybe it was a fad; or i have some absurd superstition
but it's cool
You always were the bigger person, anyway.

Oh momma momma momma

How I am slipping away,
Lost from the path of my very own way
I am slipping on the idea of loving my father
and
I am slipping on the idea of being your son
but most of all
I am slipping on the idea of losing her faith in me

Now I have slipped to the bottom of the iceberg that is this cold world

Just know if I die today
I was never meant to stay,
Gone away to a land no religion can define
Into a world of my own divine.

We felt the winter moving through the air
but didn't feel it sink into our bones—
as by and by it settles into stones—
and yet it did. I can't recall just where

we were when I first felt that we were cold,
but I remember how you shivered even
in our bed beneath the blankets, even
under all my weight that you could hold,

insisting it was coming from within
your bones, deep down, and radiating out
to make your hand feel chilly in my own.

And now I've got the shivers, too. My skin
is cool with winter, chatters in my mouth,
as by and by it settles in a stone.

I used to tell myself that I would always love you,
that for the rest of my life part of my soul would always care
but I'm here now and seeing clearer and realizing that if nothing else
you ruined me, ripped me limb from limb and left me bleeding in the streets
and that even in my broken state, even being as empty as I am right now
I have enough self love to accept that whatever we had wasn't love
and that the truth probably is that I was delusional and lost,
I let you hypnotize me, and even when I realized it
I let you walk free,
I let you hurt me.

If I were a glass jar
I would overflow with a shyness
Such a shyness that stunts my growth
Blocking the sun never letting me blossom
From the tiny seed I am,
Into a large oak tree that towers over the shyness
Like a cockroach never dying always dismaying
I will always remain the tiny seed inside that glass jar
Until the seed dehydrates into death
And the jar shatters