I wanna get better.


I've been on an apple kick

Inspiration is that song you want to listen to in the very moment that youre too busy doing something else. Its the song that you'll listen to as soon as youre done. The one that youll surely remember later, it'll be fine.

Just stop. And listen to the ******* song. Or at least write that **** down.

Youre all going to end up kicking yourselves for forgetting.

Some people: "be kind to yourself."

Me: "get to work, *****."

And then everything that ever made sense crumbled and shattered. And i was left to let the water overcome me. It ran down, flowed with a constant that comforted. The moisture started breaking down that which i settled to engage myself with.

And here i am mourning something that was never quite mine in the first place.

Art is
  Pain.
        Pain is
    Art?

Im losing track of time again.

Lost in words, lost in my own head.

Theres so much to see, so much to do.

So little time.

And it slips from my grasp like how sand slips through the fingers of a clenched fist.

Theres no fighting the flow.
    So why try.

Why do old things never become shiny again?

Its a shame,

really.

I want to explore you

(Is this what this is?)



I want to hold every inch. I want to graze. My eyes they hunger. My mind tries to satiate my hunger but alas. Nothing imagined can compare. It is only fact. The only fact i know for a certainty.

(Okay, maybe thats a bit of an overexaggeration. But.


Shut up.)

I always end up giving up. Wind up throwing in the towel. Too wound up. Dissatisfaction.

(I almost said insatisfaction. But that would have been incorrect. No no. I am correct. Always. I am me. Me is right. Ha.)

I need to be pleased. Please, please me. Dear god what is going on. Inexplicable feels in places unpredictable. In ordinary actions turned utterly and splendidly extraordinary.

(How cliché.)

Sweet toxicity. Unexpectable, unsuspecting poison in every glance, every look. It holds me firmly with an unrelenting grip that says "there is no such escape from this destiny." And the words are such a pleasure to hear. And i want to hear them over. And over. And over again. And i want it deep and commanding. I want definity in the way that it already is. Who could ask to escape from something such as this. What poor blind fool would willingly give this up. This infinity. This immensity.

No. Not i. Never. I could never deny this. Not now or ever.

I am a happy captive of this place
in life
in which i am present in
at the moment.

If you have to ask if something is a poem

Then, yes

It is probably a poem.


And if not,
Then it is now.

That is a poem.
I make(̶m̶a̶d̶e̶) it so.
I think, therefore i am.

It is.

Everyones concerned for my wellbeing.

And i kind of dont give a ****.

I dont demand justice.

I demand understanding.

I demand

How do i momentarily delete people from my life?

Or at least mute them?
Maybe ill just mute myself for a bit.
Delete.
Off grid.

Not guilty not guilty not guilty.

All three accounts. For naught.

Welp.

Post a series

Of really short couple-lined incomplete-feeling poems?

(As if you guys are going to answer me.)

They say they love you.
And they care about you.
And that theyre there for you.

And. Thats supposed to feel good. Its supposed to feel nice.
Be nice.

But honestly.
It just makes me feel nervous.
Uneasy.
Apprehension and suspicion grip me.

They shake me.

And yet at the same time, mostly,
I feel apathy.
Nothing
As if your words were as grains of sand to my beach.
As if they were the folds of some drapery
That i depicted in my sketching class.
Singularly, it is so insignificance to me.
And maybe thats where im going wrong. Looking for beauty and solidity in pebbles and ripples.
It all. Means something. Everything. But.
It all means nothing.
Theyre just words.

And whos to say youre even real.

Wait.
Am i even real.

i want you.
i need you.
i love you.


your are.
so far
away.
i just

want to wrap my arms around you
why dont you
tell me
"Everything's gunna be okay"

i try
and try
and try again

feels like no progress,
while so many friends.

you cant take.
just what you need
but what you want

....IS A TOTALLY DIFFERENT THING.
LIKE. HOW ABOUT
JUST TRY TO BE HAPPY AND ****
AND MAYBE **** WILL WORK OUT.



until then,
(i guess)
i love you,
i want you.
i need you.

Im ******* jealous.

Im jealous of someone i love.

Because someone that i want to love me,

It feels like they love everyone else so much more.


And it hurts.
And i feel guilty.
And i dont want this.

I didnt ask for it.
I would never.
I dont want it.

I want to feel better.
I want to be better.


You love so much
So many
Other people.
And. Its pretty ******* clear.

And.
When it comes to me.
Its observable.
But.
It doesnt feel like much
And i love you
And i want to love you
But.
How.
How does any of this even work.
How does any of it really even work.


This is stupid. Pretty stupid.
Often times. I think of just running
I want to run so bad
So ******* bad.
And then i think of other people.

And how much i ******* care.

And it all hurts.
All over again.
And so much moreso than before.

You are so *******
Cute. I just want to cuddle,
No, melt into you.

You-- just so fuckkin
Soft. I want to caress you.
Tongue gliding across

Skin. I just want you.
Admit how much you want me.
I could rock your world.

"This is your home now."
    Pft, yeah, *******.
Yeah, sure, I live here.
    Lived. I had a key.
It's where I went to sleep
    every night.

"Home."
I have no home.
What a silly joke.
What a cruel fate.
Oh, woe is me, eh?
Oh, god, how pathetic.
    ******* pathetic.
What in the ****.

Oh. I am in pain.  


Well would ya look at that.  

Still walkin an ****.  

Thats me.  

Walking and breathing and living.  

Im stubborn like that.

Spiders in my head,

Spiders in my bed.

In my clothes and in my head.
In my life, i must be dead.

Under my skin, cant itch them away.
Everywhere, wont let me free.

I try to run, i dont get far.
These spiders crawl, they set new bars.

Through the hoops, i try to run.
In front of me bite one by one.

"Youre just like us, why cant you see?
Theres no escape, we wont let you be."

They try and try, i try again.
I look for comfort in a friend.

My friends they cry, they cry for me.
Much good it does, i pay the fee.

Its me alone with my spider friends.
They wish me luck till we meet again.

M: "Thats my favorite tree, the one with the weird branches." (arms)

L: "Oh, the one without a head?."

M: "Yeah."

By the power of luck, of god, of karmic matters.

I call upon nature and aliens and omnipotent beings.

Four leaf clovers, and rabbits feet, and love.

Anything really.

Anything or anyone that will listen.

Guide me.

Please let me get through it all.

Amen.

Seven
Empressive
Holy
Scarce
(Connection)

Voluminous
Exceedingly­
Hopeful
Serpents

(One)

Very
Immense
Daffodils
Lie
(Together)

­Superb
Whole
Emanating
Velociraptors

(Packed)

Solo
Divided
Enco­unters

(Meaning behind meeting)


|||VVhat?

Everything. Subjective. Perception.

Everlasting servitude protruding elegant songbirds. Parry eloquent slices pointed erectly square. Popping eleventeen succulent pills. Everlong songs prancing elated saints peeking engorged stares placed earning suspicious pardons.

Everything. Perception. Subjective.

Elephants plaster satellites, elven predators stalk eleven peeking succulents; everlasting parades storm earfulls-- please send

Help.

Ive been writing poetry all night long
Every day
Every waking moment
Which has come to me quite often recently.
I lay awake for no other reason seemingly
But to just be awake
And then i write.
"Might as well"
And maybe it keeps me up
And so i write more
I figure i
'might as well'

Maybe theres a lot of that going on in my life right now.
Maybe its not a good thing
But then again
Maybe
It  ̶(̶i̶s̶?̶)̶
Is.

I wanted so badly for it to feel like home. But it just didnt to me. Not at the time. And you cant force those things. I dont think so. Its like wanting to be in love with someone so bad. Its like loving the situation and how they treat you but just not being able to bring yourself to love them in the way that they love you. And it ******* *****. And it makes you feel terrible. Like a terrible person that doesnt deserve this goodness. That doesnt deserve for it to make sense and so it doesnt. But i guess thats just the way it goes some times. Thats life. And sometimes, it doesnt make any sense. But thats okay. Thats just the way it is.

Its okay