i can see my muse when i close my eyes,
hidden and tattered, fallen behind
some amorphous blob of human pride

sleeping with a corpse,
it’s too late to find
something that warps
with my mind

america, land of the free,
where your dreams fill up to your knees.
****, that’s a little too deep for me.

i mean, i guess i’ll always just be ‘okay’
because if we all stand up
then we’re all the same anyway

it’s never been this hard to keep up appearances.
you aren’t supposed to forget how to ride a bike.
and i can’t have out of body experiences
because i never quite know what i look like