humanity vs insanity;
a joke vs the punchline;
art captured in a single sentence-
such an inspiration seeing the beauty in pain-
a story of how life is;
absence vs abuse ;
addiction and his muse;
just one more semicolon to the self aware audience that this  triumph continues;
despondency of a tragic backstory leaves complacent agony of a stereo-typical-dictionary-picture-perfect-literary-school-subject­-finger-snapping-cloaked-poet-eddy-outcast-finger-poking-laugh-st­ock-lesser-person-desperate-feeling-introspective-adolescent-prot­agonist-of-the-1sided-tragic-heroic-epic-anthology-of-a-dark-mind­ed-online-persona-posting-exposed-person-caught-lurking-only-want­ing-something-someone(?)-person-love(?)-showing-only-rejecting-cr­iticism-critiquing-only-meant-toBe-helping-overthinking-over-thin­king…

Over
Thinking

tripping so hard licking dry cement
talking so wack losing all common-sense
dreams so dead what did any of it meant
babe’s flesh feels like plastic meat

eyes all wide LOOKING RIGHT AT ME
EYES ALL WIDE glares just like a creep
no one speaks RESPECT THE DEAD
NO ONE LEAVES this is the end

delirious hyperactive paranoia
delicious hypersensitive paraphernalia
spongebob episodes play out like a poem
sobbing like a hobo in my motorhome

in a bleak  betraying  whimsical way
I want to lay in the desolate snow with you.
paraphrasing how poets say
I want to grow old with you- so I’ll try:

<𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 & 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦>
melancholy = mediocrely
medicinal = manipulative
promises = broken    

clichés and critics say my love is predictable and scripted
that I’m foreshadowing tragedies or my muse is figurative
I never did well in English - but you made me pick up the pen
I never thought I’d fall in love - but you make me want to do it again

I care less who sees this - except you
I’ll just take another hiatus - until you tell me how good did I do?

the shine of her shrine brings fair smiles to some,
young lies fester and spread faster than flies hatching from larvae.

Days by days - weeks at a time - content is a constant crisis to our protagonist

summer is welting while winter is begging to stop the talk of death,
but change is soon - somethings are better not stopped; the same as letting the flame from the candle die with the room...

It’s been 16 years and you still look the same-
Our hearts have been far apart but you still remember my name...
Your perfume sticks to your skin-
This room is filled from moments of fortune from when...
I show you the calluses to prove the age I am-
I hold your face with a rough touch from a hurting man...
My guitar hums a familiar tune-
I need to leave this place perhaps later maybe soon...
/Liquid IV tips and taps down a plastic glass\
Look into my broken brown eyes - look past the sadness of this moment - realize since everyone else has disappeared I won’t disappoint - I will always stay and still be here
Forever and now until your very last moment

the currency is war - the debt is ***,
it’s time to repay the tax from the glory days.

conspiracy is free - among the men at sea,
they await to join Yankees that are drunken on the shore.

ad-ease! calm your sails - the wind startles lads, that jump at first sound of freedom.

she sounds like a fantasy - sung within our shanties , wearing silk and cotton undergarments.

liberty is precious - like a rose you must cherish, for our neighbors are caught with stone setting fire to our garden...

I want to do you - you nasty little creature

but I cannot stomach - you seeing another.

The sacred touch of your skin -
is nothing like theirs - to hƎll with all them-
I only need yours.

Am I just a Vermin - riddled with diseases - or am I worth saving ? until you don’t need me

I’m so pathetic but I’m so obsessive- maybe this is what true love is called...