Space and time
is only that
and can we
make
like...
life and persistence?

How often should we feel so bad,
and question our existence?

I used to blow up ****, and plow up
all old stories,
and i used to throw rock at old windows,
and soak in all my glory

so sticky sweet
all i want
is candy from the mexican kids
because it's so sour and so hot

I think i really like
Really like what I may be
A dead man who feels alive
when tied to live people's livery