I guess I left because I needed to be depressed somewhere else,
I wanted the chance to forget everyone I knew so that I could find out what I wanted.
For a while I liked things, then I thought they were okay.
I got really into it for a while,
then when I stopped liking it:
I said it was interesting,
trying to avoid any real answer
(or commitment).

I got really sick of looking in the mirror,
but I couldn't get rid of it,
so I bleached my hair,
which was a waste of $13
because I cut it off the morning after.

I was really embarrassed when your friend came over,
he was cute,
you told me there were clothes in the trash bags he carried.
(apparently they were for me)

I decided to clean the kitchen for a few bucks
so that I could get a wig at the local thrift store.
(I figured he wouldn't want to date me if I was bald).
When I got to the thrift store it was closed
and there was a drunk man passed out by the front door.
I thought about waking him up, but I was too shy.

I ran home
because it was getting late
and I'm afraid of the dark.

The first thing when I got in the door
I went to get a glass of water,
the sink was full with all the dishes I just washed.
(apparently they weren't good enough)

I never realized that hot water could whistle,
or that it could hurt so much.
I washed through the pain.
When I got to the silverware
it reminded me of a conversation
that I had with some close friends.
One of them told me they put one between each finger
like a claw,
I tried to do it
but my impatience got the better of me.

We're romantics,
pretty gossipers.

We try as hard as we can to escape the world with pens,
and we soak page after page,
imagining the ink to be our tears.

We're depressed,
lost travelers.

The words; each hand picked to portray something only we can understand.
Our desperate search for empathy is sickening,
and yet it continues.

We're sweet,
helpless lovers.

We fall in love with every person we see with a symmetrical (enough) face.
Picking up habits that we've read in books,
or saw in an old film.

Why are we poets?

I've been pretending to be a pair of legs,
making the rest of my body disappear.
Too bad I just covered the top half of my body in mud,
leaving my skin dry and cracked.
I got sick of waiting for someone to walk by,
so I went into town to look for a friend.
It was too dark for me to see,
and I couldn't turn on a light if I wanted to be invisible.
someone saw me, and they tried to steal my hat,
that's when I killed them with my nail clippers.

The day I learned what zero gravity was,
I went to the fair and I rode all the rides,
and I followed people that I didn't want to be with.

We all ate the same food with the same forks,
spinning until it hurt our cheeks to smile anymore,
then we tried to walk, even though we knew people were dying for our country.

When I got hurt you gave me two generic band-aids
and they wouldn't stick onto my ****** hands,
the shaking might have had a little to do with it,
but not that much.

I'm sorry that I got the phone wet when I was shaving my legs,
I just didn't want to stop laughing,
it felt too good.

So, I hope you get this message,
okay, bye.

Harolds rootbeer was warm but he was out of ice.
Josh said they never had any to begin with.

Harold searched the freezer desperately.
"I'm so ******* thirsty!"

Josh took out some popsicles and dropped them in Harold's glass.
"Problem solved!"

the awkward moment when we made eye contact
I laughed and coughed up my milk all over you.
the embarrassment hurt worse than the choke,
but it was sweet because you smiled at your drenched shirt,
"I was just about to transform and rip this to pieces anyway,
I'm glad it was put to use."

I love you number 8, your bug eyes,
sure bug guys,
****,
it's just so ****,
when the camera zooms in on your face,
and you've got the ball between your legs,
I know you're looking to score a goal.

Coach, you can teach me how to play,
mmmm.

You've got your pads,
like I've got mine,
but only when it's half-time,
****!
commercial.
I guess I can go ***, and eat,
but I must hurry,
cause I don't wanna miss a single move you make.

what the **** is up with spain?
using their heads to score,
as if that even feels good,
use your ******* feet!

iFUTBOOL!!