I think I've been tricked into thinking I'm sick.
If you want to know more I can give you the Bic
Just give it a little click

Write me a little 'script?

I'm moody enough to be an emotional poet
And I'm desperate enough that I'll have you know it
I will even all-the-way-down-to-the-bone it

Fake a pretty personality and tell you where to stow it?

I'll sing out "look what I did Pappa!" in a British child's accent
Starring Me! o just me! in a big name musical event
Possibly open a space in my chest for rent

Call a British doctor? "She needs put down, innit."

My emotional range as classical piano keys
Jet black and stark white, smash a fist down and see
But you'll never guess, you'll never guess what's to be....

I've got a vendetta with a psychiatric decree.

I think I've been tricked into BEING sick
And ******* all, I want that ******* Bic
Give your jugular a little stick?

Now write me another 'script.

Should have stayed benevolent through it all
But I let my venom course it's way through my own veins,
Poisoning all with my bite.

I am a dracula, blasphemer, killer, liar, emotional tourist...
an Eve, a serpent's pet.

And it's just that when I am on fire
it's hard to put me out.

I feel like the bitter ghost of a woman
that descends over calm waters
and spews forth her black-tongued
malice.

I never even recognized the poison
in my own heart.

And I shall die this way.

(Excerpts from my thought process of today.)

I've been implored by conversation and my own pieces I've taken from it
to find comfort in the absence of perfection.

I told myself today:
Find comfort in your flaws, my friend
for they are a part of you
and you must love them
just as much as you love the good parts
because it is you
and you are always going to be your greatest love
or your greatest loss.


Torn skin stings where it is starting to heal....

I have conflicting beasts inside me
duking it out for the better half of the meat.
The juicier, larger half.

lonely, maybe?
afraid to be anxious
but afraid to pop a Xanax
just to feed the addiction
and die a little more inside.

Seeking out comfort in seemingly more oedipus-like fashions.
Take that as you will.
(I don't care.)

my thumb gets near my mouth
I have the urge to **** it in between my lips
and roll my tongue around its sweet comfort
like a child I can no longer be
but such comfort
I get in warm bursts
from this pleasant incursion

I feel like an animal trapped in a hot car.

Next to me, you're tiny
so small
Compared with me? weak,
you're just a doll

But you need affection
I just want the best for you
Bad at detection (you are)
But you're good at what you do

Let's just...
Take this off so daddy can see what's there
Oh you're uncomfortable?
Well, life isn't fair.
And baby, please
I can't feel a thing
So let's just lose
This rubber thing

Don't say no
It's not polite
I won you fair
In that barfight
You're mine now
Skin, bone, and all
So open up now
You're taking the fall

(So weak, so small...)

I am not getting what I want
Persistent I will be until attainment
Come on baby, please don't be a ****
Now cry a little now for my entertainment

i've created me a monster
i built him and i set him free
i've made a man-like monster
i breathed electrical breaths into his body

i've created me a monster
and he hates me for it so...

now, my creature- he is lost
wild and decaying out there
only by my mark on his skin
can you know that he is mine

and his strange gutteral sounds
they desparingly resound
from walls all around
in my head abound....

what have i done?

the famous windmills of... wherever
sitting hollow in a photgraph
standing tall, dark, anonymous
in a greying contrast to the fray
and hope to see the sun someday

rough, flush, posthumous lips.
exposed, crisp imperfections.
rough, barbed fingernails.
frost wisps eyelashes into splintered cords.
moist lyrics in the foggy solicits of a conventional partition.