I don't "do work"
That is so eighties

Drive to some office
Sit there for 8 hours

Blahhhhh
My parents have money

I watch documentaries
And spend years alone

I'm isolated

I'm alone in America

A few people will read this
I'm in a library

In the Los Angeles area.
I cost $900 bucks a month

I don't earn

I'm out of position

I'm driving around
Suburban neighborhoods

This is my life

i would leave home for days
no one would ever ask where i was at
it began to feel as if i could just disappear
without a sound, without a word
no one would come searching for me
maybe that's why i've become so obsessed
with this idea of dying

Starlight stricken moonlight
at the heart of the moments
Forsaken, spent and abused
Shaked, lent and reduced
For another chilly winter roll

On the web of eastwards wind
where precious rocks were undone
and the glorious weeds remained
on the clay that moulds the flesh
at the core of their condolences

Not a shame for I felt it before
as I forgot the rain we saw before
the walks we walked there before
Not a shame for I felt it before
at the bonfire night terrain before
the walks we walked there before

We saw the sun as it forgot to rise
and the rain thunder footstep behind
The storms raged past vanished ships
and the voices that guided in woods
as descendants swept the golden robes

The eucalyptus that burst in trenches
from ashes that forms and reforms
on cyclic breaths of symbolism
as the gentle caress familiar mists
in particular mystic scent to an ear

Not a shame for I felt it before
as I forgot the rain we saw before
the walks we walked there before
Not a shame for I felt it before
at the bonfire night terrain before
the walks we walked there before

786

Severer Service of myself
I—hastened to demand
To fill the awful Vacuum
Your life had left behind—

I worried Nature with my Wheels
When Hers had ceased to run—
When she had put away Her Work
My own had just begun.

I strove to weary Brain and Bone—
To harass to fatigue
The glittering Retinue of nerves—
Vitality to clog

To some dull comfort Those obtain
Who put a Head away
They knew the Hair to—
And forget the color of the Day—

Affliction would not be appeased—
The Darkness braced as firm
As all my stratagem had been
The Midnight to confirm—

No Drug for Consciousness—can be—
Alternative to die
Is Nature’s only Pharmacy
For Being’s Malady—

I feel a sudden increase of physical pain,
like the sharp dagger stabbed swiftly deep in my stomach
swirling and stirring
every time I remember that you exist,
and breathe
somewhere
under this blue sky