See "Laws of Physics"

1. You will have a body.
2. You will have a mind.
3. You can do whatever you want with either.
4. You will hurt.
5. You will feel joy.
6. Love is not guaranteed, though it is a possibility.
7. You do not owe anyone anything. Although, (see rule 8), people may decide you do.
8. Some people will be more powerful than you. This can mean influence, size, weapons, or intelligence.
9. There are no laws (excepting the Laws of Physics). Although, (see rule 8), people may decide there are.
10. You will not have time to see it all.
11. You cannot choose to whom, or where, you are born.
12. You will die.
13. Any prospective afterlife will not be revealed until after the time of death.

These are the rules. They are entirely non-negotiable. Should you find them agreeable, you are welcome to experience life and all it has to offer. Life is non-refundable. Life cannot be re-sold. Life is without material value.

To proceed, please sign here-


X__________

I rattle on like the wind if you let me
I make a million plans a minute
To go a million places
And **** a million women.
I spin silken sterling yarn with my silver tongue
But I can't do much else.
Not too surprisingly, plenty of people don't care for me.
And for a while I was among them-
The product of an overanalytical mind and a policy of no-******* cynical honesty (or maybe honest cynicism), I suppose.

However, on my good days I know it to be true, that I
Can't change them, can't change me.
Why try?

I was built
To fly by the seat of my pants
And try to use my best judgement-
Though I'm probably going to lose my mind
And all my money
And friends
In the process.

We'll see.

The road stretches infinitely onward,
To the bitter end-

God knows I'll get there someday.

falling for me,
is like a step backwards
off of a pier
with cement shoes
i'll just drag you under baby
while gasping
i love you too

When I stand by your side, my skin can melt steel,
When I hear you heart singing, mine starts to heal.
When I look in your eyes, I see the beauty of stars,
Whenever you cry, I wish I bore your scars.

ever since you left
i've replaced water with *****
it's dripping through my fingers
and is falling to the floor
it's coursing through my veins
still i drink a bit more

the flowers in my stomach
died the same day
i forgot you can't water them
with alcohol, anyway

so here i am still trying to escape
this is it, this is goodbye
i hope this time i forget your name.

When it's October 12th-
When it's a sunny Sunday afternoon
In the fall
When you're curled up in your comfiest sweater
Next to a purring cat curled up in his
And you sit in front of the bay windows of your home
Watching the clouds and cars and wind roll by
Carrying burning yellow leaves
In the updrafts.

When you want something,
but you don't know what.
Maybe it's a want to want,
misplaced in hopes of filling
the ever-present void in you.
Maybe it's happiness.

Maybe it's as close as you'll ever get.

Either way,
Maybe it's enough.

Looking out this double-paned plate glass window into the gray frigidity and red-leaved bitterness of October in one of the last wild and still-untamed bastions of freedom in the west at the mountains thinking about how even they are moving, my darling, and how the spaces in between them are growing just like the space in between the sun and the earth and the space between all the galaxies all at once and the space between the spaces between the world and I and soon I’ll just be floating all by my lonesome in some swirling pool of- not air, no, not even air, just nothingness and watching everything float away like disappearing city limits from the tailgate of a truck on cruise control zipping across the badlands and maybe you’ll be there but going the opposite way and there’ll be nothing to do but watch it all go, go, go, til it’s
gone, gone, gone

Today would've been our anniversary-
But I'm spending it with my not-new boyfriend,
And you're probably doing something adventurous
With your new wife.
She would've been me,
If I hadn't left you for our best friend
The friend I gave you.
He taught me to free myself,
And you are more ignorant than I-
Because you think you're so ******* holy
And I hope you drown in your self-richousness.
My boyfriend and I
2 years and 8 months later
Were invited to your birthday party last week.
Of course we didn't go,
But I texted you to say thanks, anyway.
I got your number from my friend
That I gave you.
You replied that it was really only my boyfriend
Who would've been welcome
Cause your new wife doesn't want us to "interact."
What is she so scared of?
Couldn't be your cheating lips.
Your wife-
The one who would've been me,
And I'm so ******* glad that never happened.
Because you're a slave to your God,
The God you left me for,
The God I gave you.
I can't believe I'm writing about you again.
But this will be the last time,
And you and your wife can go get ****** in holy matrimony.

My niece turned 7 today.
I look at her pictures, and she is a beautiful
Little girl,
A child,
Just a kid.
She is innocent, pure, and beaming with light
Glowing with a future of brightness.
And see I look at this picture
Of 7 year old me
And I am corrupt-
Grown up, wasted,
Not a kid anymore.
My innocence was taken from me
And my future was only ever darkness.
See cause I just can't picture my sweet little niece
As not a ******,
I can't imagine her naked child body as anything
But sacred and untouched.
But I remember praying to God
That I wouldn't burn in hell
Cause I was the only little girl in Sunday school
That Jesus didn't want for a sunbeam.
And I remember my naked child body
Raw, and pulsing with pain,
Aching with what I couldn't understand.
I can't imagine her smiling baby teeth
Open up and swallow poison
As a 5 year old suicide attempt
Like I did at that age.
Sometimes the flashbacks sneak out my tearducts
And roll down my face,
And I feel like I'm 7 again.
But I just can't imagine her feeling that way.
And I just want her to be my baby niece forever,
Even though I know I can't protect her.
She wrote a love note to a boy in class
That read, "Do you want to kiss me?
Circle yes or no."
Her mom thought it was cute.
But all I could think of
Was my first French kiss;
Slimy, sloppy kid tongues-
And I just have to stop right there.
I always wished she'd stay 6 forever,
So she never has to grow up like I did.
Cause 7-year-olds should be children,
Not ******.
Not like me.
I can't imagine hickeys on her neck,
Bruises on her thighs,
Or cuts on her wrists.
When I picture her as a young woman
I don't see scars-
But the same bright future,
The same radiant smile (only with big-girl teeth.)
When I picture her as my age,
I hope the skeletons in her closet
Are sneaking out at night and lying in the morning.
I hope she has the innocent kind of fun.
And if anyone tries to take herself from her-
I will *******
****** them.