Oh, you know me,

Nothing real special, like a mangy dog in an animal shelter,

Deep đeep down in the unwanted swelter, serve me up for dinner with an ice cold tea,

spit out the bones n festering fatty fried overdone die rolling round inside my eye,

oh wait,
but what,
did you do with the apple,
you need a good breakfast
so go steal the tree sap, too,
fool,

put it on the side,
get your sippy straw, slide up in your high chair
sit the **** down and shutup,

here let me fill your cup half full,
I might be under a rock but I'm no ghoul,

let me school you on how it is to be pariah, quietly blamed for every fire and no truth comes from this liar,
yea I'm the one who ***'d in the pool,

even though I didn't swim all day, feet dry but red handed since you label me this way,
my dreams collect dust and drool big disgusting puddles that I wipe up with my accomplishments,
the seams start to bust and spools of matter roll out of my chest into a tangled mess, but I digress, it's just me.



---
How am i?
of a mild demeanor, if it wasn't for the back you'd think I was a senior.

The hottest sauce that won't ruin the wok. I come in the orange pack put me on your taco.

Solid as a rock oh, did I mention I'm wearing two different socks?
I don't take stock in matching garments. If a girl gets with me, she takes it how she found it. Don't doubt it,
I've got a subtle flavor,
it's one you savor,
  n probably don't even know

save it for later.

I set your soul on fire with mild style make you feel like you're at the funeral pyre of all your desires,

I'm a liar and crook, but these days I'm only taking what's been took n sauté'n it with squashed beef on *** leaf n displaying it on a clean slate grab a plate I know it looks good, I'm turning into an off-beat Santa Claus slash Robin Hood.

Just remember the sauce.  
The laws don't apply because the flavors the cause.
Crack the pack open and witness the walls fall, pause to consume the hue of a new wound gauze.
Just remember the green-based, life-changing, gotta-be-laced with crack tastin better than kraft mac with milk Sauce killin all minions like a boss, a mean beast without claws.

---


Am I nothing more than a big bucket of inertia on a string swinging between extremes, elated when things happening seem to happen for me to keep swinging right into extreme until I'm falling and hitting the ground with a thump unsatisfying for all the stuff inside me that's now spilling out and feeding the plants the birds the bees around me gathering to breathe my dying breath from my lungs? Is this just a hum I could've sung?

Well the plants seem to be growing and the birds they keep on flying and the bees are always pondering if something should be stung or if it should be left alone but now that my contents have been flung around the bees make their only sound and buzz above and on the ground, they hum and hum each taking something back to the hive I wonder am I dying? Was this why I was alive? To feed a beehive? To feed a few birds? To feed a couple trees? Is this my mark on the world? Is this what I chose to be, a bucket full of nothing to me, but something to those thieving indifferent participants of life's indifferent prying into everything that could ever be, including me and my contents in this bucket on a string? Now the birds are singing much more eloquently than I thought a bird could sing my blood must be uplifting like the blood of a mortal enemy finally spilling on the rocks of points made by the very body now seeding fertile ground for growing more trees for more bees to make their beehives and more birds to sit on and sing I should be happy should be happy should be