tumult, grasping
for a foothold, just
someplace steady that
I can use to
make sense of things

i’m dying, i’m dying, i’m dying

desperate, i’m desperate. trying to keep
my head about the waves – god
why did I never learn how to swim?
how does everyone else seem to just know?

what is true what is real what is good?
do i love them? do i just want to **** them?
why can’t i seem to
stop scaring people away?

i never quite know whether my night will end with me
singing on mountaintops
or crumpled on a ***** floor

i hate it i love it
i wish it would stop

motion sickness all over again
spinning -- why should the earth need an axis?
just give me a ******* pill