love is my burden, my curse, my devil
the voice that whispers dark ***** spells
into my ear that's been bitten by many
who's compliments have started to sound like drones

and i ensnare them with enchantment, and wonder, and excitement
and they see me in a way that just isn't real
because i'm a creature of persuasion born
to float like a gas, sure, you can see me
but you can't hold me or feel
what's below the surface, so lovely,
a demon that burns from the inside out

a siren, i sing a song of beauty and bounty
as they steer for the rocks, i wear a smile
and i almost sink with them, but i'm still laughing
because i know they're the only ones
that are going to drown

sobriety is fleeting, a bird that flies in and out of my life
sometimes it lingers, but most of the time it only stops to say hello
much like the drinking, snorting, dropping, tripping, that calls to me
and for so long now i've been on this path
the one that everyone seems to see as righteousness
and yes, i'm doing right, i can see that with my own eyes,
but does happiness linger? no more than usual
and have i lost the urges that call to me, deep, dark, and loud in the night? no
they are louder than ever and i am compromised
because i am human
and as long as i have this heart beating within me
as long as the blood beneath the surface calls
to have some kind of cocktail poured directly into it
so that the brain within my skull can escape, or travel, or trip,
whatever the ******* want to call it,
i will always want for something
i will always itch
i will always ask for just one more
i will always desire escape
and i will always grant my wish to disappear
even if the moments are only fleeting, like a bird come to say hello

i guess satisfaction with survival
is kind of a strange concept
but admittedly i've been warming up to it
ever since my feet walked over pine trees
to climb absaroka mountain ranges

and now i watch bike wheels
spin over pavement while head phones
leak limp noodle notes into my brain
and i may not be able to eat a meal
more than once a day
and maybe i wonder how i'm going to
find my way home
but i'm still standing, i'm not dying
and good god is it nice to be alone

it's insane
that the human body
knows the difference
between a deep breath
and a bite of grilled cheese.
air down this tube,
grub down the other.

i sometimes sit
and think
god can't possibly be real.
how in the world
could he come up
with this ****?

with all of the complexities that
make up humans and the rest
of the animal kingdom,
i have to believe that our molecules
just smashed into each other
going 10,000 miles per hour,
and so we began.

tiny organisms at first
that grew to be beasts,
born to be brutes.
with feet that carried
them wide and far,
wreaking havoc
on this green of earth.

when i'm reminded that i'm human
things swim out of focus
and my eyes work hard to catch up,
but they can't

and my heart races like a
man keeping beat for the band
and i can't help but realize
something the size of my fist
keeps the blood in my body
from sitting stagnant

and my brain wanders
to the darkest corners
covered in dust and cobwebs
behind the bookcases
that chronicle my 23 years
finding the most vile and disgusting
pages that make me up,
the ones i thought i had
torn out and thrown away

and you sit there with that
knowing smile, shaking your head,
because this isn't the first time
that i set myself apart from the rest

and i stare back straight into your
eyes and calmly whisper
that i'm not one of them

but my heart keeps on beating
and pushing the blood through
one piece of living
flesh to the next
and into the brain
that looks like any other,
and just like you,
without it, i'd be dead

i spend my sundays waiting for the sun to reach the edge of my sagging roof porch and
in the sprawling moments in which i wait i flip through pages which tell me of my destiny
and i try to figure out why the **** i care about a future that i may never know,
but good god do i care.

these words swim in front of me like creatures in an effervescent pool, glowing green,
because of some strange algae **** that sticks to them and their surroundings,
forever catching my eye and interest, though they will never leave the pool, or in this case,
the pages on which they lie.

i analyze each past moment in contingency with each morsel of advice this book has to offer
and i wonder how many times i've already ****** up on my karmic path,
but somehow i find comfort in the small intricacies that weave within my own existence,
time passed in the way the book spells it out.

i start to wonder if this is any different than witch craft, or religion,
and i find myself faced with another question, what exactly do i believe in?
suddenly i realize that the purpose of this book isn't to give me answers, it's to make me ask questions,
and that's when i slam it shut.

i'm sick of answering questions and wondering who i am, like i'm some ******* hero from an epic,
plus the sun's starting to warm the dark roof that scrapes my bare feet when i pace back and forth,
and the only thing that makes sense right now is going outside and
lighting my last ******* cigarette.

i sat on my roof and screamed,
i'm gonna revolutionize this
******* world if it kills me

and my neighbors all turned
and stared, interrupted from
mowing their lawns, washing
their cars, teaching their sons
to play catch, and daughters
to go fetch their morning papers

they quickly turned away at
the realization that it was just that
crazy neighbor girl who hasn't
done **** with her four year
degree, but create a fortress
in which she hides day after day

they smell that stanky marijuana
pluming out of her window
and watch her stumble home, drunk,
listening to her sing along to the music
that the devil has surely put on this
earth to corrupt good catholics,
like the one she once was

and they shake their heads and
hold tight to their son's shoulders
and even tighter to their daughter's
hands, because maybe, just maybe
if they hold on tight enough they'll
always be dumb enough to withstand

because the masses are the winners
and this is the spoiler,
we're being taken over by cookie cutting
stepford wannabe *******,
and they're gonna ruin the world