i am laying outside on crunchy leaves and all i can think about is you you you

it's pretty nice out for winter

like 40-something degrees

people in my house have the stomach flu and i am deathly afraid of vomiting

so instead i'm out here getting lung cancer

isn't it funny how things play out

i joke about getting lung cancer a lot but i probably shouldn't because i'm probably going to end up with it

anyway now i hear something in the distance

it sounds like children playing

laughing and jumping and running

or maybe it's geese


but something inside me hopes that it's kids

i sexually identify as the 28 degree january breeze sneaking through your cracked window at 5am

one time a school of fish said to me, "everything will be fine. we promise. just hang around longer."

it was mid-june, i believed them

one time i tweeted, "you have so much undiscovered depth. you are an ocean,"
referring to my gay friend who is known for being sassy and, well, gay
and not for what he really is
or what he's worth

anyway, someone replied to it
"you're a cork in the ocean"
and to this day i still think about what the **** that even means
but its poetic sounding and i like it
i guess

we are all the **** of a great cosmic joke
and i am not me anymore
i'm a hurricane aftermath
it swept away all the worth i had left
and here i am,
incompletely resolute

my favourite shade of orange is the one leaves turn before they commit suicide and if that doesn't say something about my personality then i don't know what does

all i'm trying to say is that
the grass is green for a reason and it turns brown and ugly sometimes but it always goes back to how it was before and i need you to promise me that you'll hold on

today is the first page of a blank 365 page book. you hold the pen-- it's yours. make it good.

your mind fills up your whole room and leaks into the hallway through the cracks of your door, use it wisely

I EITHER WRITE IN ALL CAPITALS OR NONE AT ALL
and yes, i smoke every ****** cigarette to the filter
yet my sadness never fades
i have bent and creased my sorrows into tiny origami butterflies
and sometimes when it rains i am the happiest  i've ever been
and when the sun runs away
i am the only one here on earth
everyone is teeter-tottering on the moon  
i truly feel alive

and no,
i cannot take away what others have given
and no,
i cannot find solace in my own words

we are all together in this cosmic game

when your favourite pen runs out of ink,
i hope you think
of me.