A spectacular nothing is what I feel
When I know love,
When I know hate.
A spectacular nothing is when I see
The shake in my hands,
The tears on my face.
A spectacular something is you,
A spectacular nothing is me.

Boris was very good here
Peaches are mean cannibals
Wasabi rainbow

My **** doesn’t stink
It smells like a sink
My feces are great
Sometimes they’re straight

And sometimes they look like a circle,
But they do not look like Urkel.
They come into existence with a bang
When people see them, they say, “Oh dang!”

i don’t like this feeling in my heart.
is it hope? is it happiness?
i hope not.
i am too unused to pleasant emotions.
please just let me be.
let me keep existing in this in between,
where everything is familiar and
everything makes sense.

i made my password
your name
on this stupid website
where poetry is posted.
i wanted to write about you,
but i realized the words you said to me
do not qualify as love,
but lightning in a quiet dream.
this soon becomes a nightmare
and you're still the starring role