Would anything change
if I left where you all stood
would you be doing less opiates
and making somewhat constructive conversation?

Would you go unpunished for my excuses
or anticipate someone yelling while you drove?
I can’t see why someone would miss
a savage like me

Bickering, or
*******, or
slutting, or
strangling

You’ll all rest in peace
(not death, you barbarians)
when I’m not having spasms
next to your sink

Could anyone contort your face
like I can when I tell you how
filthy or gorgeous you look?
(no.)

Is anyone going to replace this void
that I’ll create in this cell
the walls stained with old *****
the rug covered in excess hair

In my defense
I’m truly insane
it should be no wonder
that I live in such a cave

When I leave
you’ll be much more relieved
I do wonder, however
how quickly you’ll age

Or if I’m the one to age
whistling through deserts and forests
and tripping on sidewalks
or drowning in corporate fountains

I cry hopelessly that I’m not
a catalyst
because I don’t want to stay here
when everyone is through

The rain will wash out
your bloodstains on my clothes
I can’t stumble through a laundromat
without feeling like a derelict

Maybe I’ll take up smoking
and deal crank to minors
and abuse my dogs
and **** my wife (or husband)

Or I’ll become a banker
and pocket your money
to burn when I’m cold
or bury under expensive food

It’ll take ten more warehouses
and a thousand more people
to chain me to this
map of my adolescence

Leaving here I’ll lose my mind
between the branches and streams
and the abundance of towering behemoths
that grew only lifetimes ago