I’m a civilized individual, I must admit,
Caved inside a privileged home where I
Live in solace; it’s hard
To complain about anything else
Living isn’t the same as living, and it pains me
Each day is never like the next
It took me years to hit my lowest, and somehow
I still function with this empty gas tank of motivation—
I’m the true face of an unwanted miracle.

I feel like Jimi Hendrix at his lowest,
After his high during Woodstock
I live in a world where expression
Is laughed at, casted off as batshit crazy—
Maybe this slump of mine is the great art project
That Andy Warhol never got to craft
Of course, he would never give this mess
The time of day; no one wants to see
A car crash of lost innocence
I should be out on a football field, people say,
Acting as defense, yet I can’t
Even defend my internal suffering
Life’s a ***** with those kind of things
To cover up and protect other people’s ugliness.


I would never want to do that; I’d rather slowly
**** myself ten feet away from a computer screen,
Reading the ****** judgements of the world
And understanding that I’m not the only one
Living a life of regrets and decisions.

Oh yes, life is a *****—
But it’s the most interesting ***** you’ll ever meet.